


Why Did You Come Back?

by CharlotteAshmore



Series: Why Did You Come Back Verse [2]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Ensemble Cast, F/M, Fluff, Happily Ever After, Rumbelle-centric, Season 1-2 rewrite, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-15
Updated: 2019-02-02
Packaged: 2019-08-24 06:16:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 58
Words: 235,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16634549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CharlotteAshmore/pseuds/CharlotteAshmore
Summary: A dark sorcerer, mired in loneliness and a desperation for companionship as he readies to cross realms to find his son … a loving yet stubborn princess who refuses to give up on true love … and an eccentric and slightly mad friend who will stick with them until the end.  Sounds like a fairytale. A Rumbelle-centric retelling of season one.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended. This is a work of pure fiction. All characters and events depicted in this story are entirely fictitious. Any similarity to actual events or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
> 
> A/N: This is a re-posting of the first fic I wrote after discovering the wonderful world of fanfiction. Again, this has gone through some extensive editing, so hopefully, you won’t find any mistakes. I hope y’all enjoy it … Happy Reading!!
> 
> Huge buckets of love to Emilie Brown for my beautiful cover art!!

 

 

          Belle could feel herself falling.  _Stubborn man and his blasted nails! Who nails their drapes to the wall?_  She'd just wanted to bring some sunlight into the gloominess of his life and she was going to have to pay the price for that. For once he wouldn't be able to throw his favorite saying up into her face, because no magic had been involved this time. Only her innate clumsiness. It felt as though she were falling in slow motion as the floor rushed up to break her fall. If it didn't kill her, she was sure to have a broken bone or two. And then … not the floor, that was certain.

          She could feel a blush creep up her neck to stain her cheeks as she landed softly in Rumpelstiltskin's capable arms. She smiled tentatively up at him, nervous and uncertain. It felt as though a thousand butterflies had taken flight in her belly, but she couldn't be certain if it was from the fall or from her proximity to Rumpelstiltskin. And why was he looking at her as though he'd never seen her before? It had been months since he'd brought her to the Dark Castle to be his caretaker, yet he gazed down at her as if seeing her for the first time, those deep amber eyes unsettling.

          Very odd, Belle thought as she murmured a quick, "Thank you."

          Rumpelstiltskin dropped her legs back to the stone floor and helped to steady her, his brows knit together in confusion. Recalling himself quickly, he said, "No matter."

          "I'll … uh … put the curtains back up," Belle mumbled, thinking quickly, trying to mask the raging river of strange emotions flowing through her.

          He'd moved away from her slightly, needing to distance himself from her. At her softly uttered words, he turned back to her. "Uh … there's no need. I'll get used to it."

_Escape! Must escape before I'm driven insane with her incessant chatter. He was going to set fire to that ladder as well. She didn't need to be climbing. God's teeth! Next, she would, no doubt, be swinging from the chandelier in the foyer. There seemed to be no end of the mischief she could cause … even if it was quite innocent._

          Rumpel froze in his tracks and swung back around to face her, feeling more certain of himself now that she was well on the other side of the room. "And stay off the ladder, dearie. I'd hate to see you splattered all over the rug. Blood is so hard to get out." He raised a brow and grinned crookedly, leaving her staring blankly at him.

 _Library! Escape!_  His sanctuary had offered him little solace of late. He used to be able to spend hours there, brewing and mixing his potions, or simply staring out the windows lost in thought. At least, until - in a moment of weakness - he'd given it to Belle. And since when did he just let people get away with wronging him? Belle had actually talked him into letting that wastrel get away with his best wand. She was making him soft.

 _And speaking of soft_ … bloody hellfire, he could still feel her in his arms, soft and supple and smelling of roses. His skin tingled where he'd had her pressed innocently to his chest. A shudder rippled through his thin frame. It had been so long since he'd held a woman, he'd forgotten what it felt like. The sorcerer groaned and ran a hand over his face to banish the thought of how close her lips had been to his own. He threw his hands into the air and flopped down onto the small settee he'd provided for Belle in one corner of the library.  _Lovely! Now I'm lusting after my housekeeper!_ He shifted uncomfortably and grimaced.

          Rumpelstiltskin was just about to scream down the stairs for his tea when he thought better of it. No, it would be best if Belle stayed far away from him for the time being. He waved his hand at the low table set before the sofa and willed the tea service to appear. He leaned forward and groaned. Today, on top of everything else he had to contend with, his favorite leather pants were not his friend.  _What else could possibly happen to bedevil him?_

          The Dark One sat back against the soft back of the sofa and sipped his tea, sighing as the quiet seeped into his body.  _Bam! Footsteps. Bam!_ He sat up and listened, his heightened hearing picking up a familiar tread.  _Well, just, shit!_

          "And how are you today, my darling girl?" Jefferson asked, dropping a kiss to Belle's cheek. The mage couldn't claim to have many friends, and if you asked him directly, he wouldn't claim Jefferson … unless he needed a favor. However, it didn't stop the hatter from showing up regularly to trade barbs, magic and gold with Rumpelstiltskin. He and Belle had become fast friends during his recent visits, her sweet nature allowing her to be open and friendly with him. Rumpelstiltskin didn't care for their friendship, but what could he really do about it? Jefferson cringed inwardly as he thought about the many things Rumpel could do, on second thought.

          Belle smiled warmly at her friend. "I am well, Jefferson." She motioned to the tea service on the table which served as the centerpiece in the Great Hall. "Would you care for a cup of tea? Rumpelstiltskin usually has tea at this time, but he hasn't come down yet from the library."

          Jefferson laid his cloak over the back of Rumpelstiltskin's favorite chair and smiled, knowing it would annoy him. "That would be lovely, Belle. So, why is Lord Sourpuss hiding in the library? And what happened in here?" he asked, waving a hand in the direction of the fallen drapes.

          Belle handed the hatter a cup of tea and looked in the direction he pointed, a pretty blush staining her cheeks as she remembered landing in her master's arms. "Please don't let him hear you call him that. You know he hates it," she scolded gently. "And as to the drapes, I was trying to brighten up the room by letting some light in."

          "Then why stop with one window?"

          Belle's blush deepened. "Rumpelstiltskin forbade me to get back on the ladder," she mumbled sheepishly.

          Jefferson's grey eyes narrowed on her with suspicion. "What aren't you telling me, Belle?"

          "Jeff, could you possibly help me get the remainder of the drapes down? Rumpelstiltskin may have forbidden me to get back on the ladder, but he didn't say anything about you helping me," she coaxed, smiling hopefully up at him, and at the same time avoiding his question.

          Before the man could answer, the drapes disappeared from the windows, bathing the Great Hall in sunlight. Belle jumped back as they landed in a heap atop her shoes. Rumpelstiltskin's voice boomed down the stairwell. "Stop standing around in idle chit chat and get back to work, dearie!"

          Belle covered her ears with both hands and groaned. Jefferson frowned towards the archway which hid the stairs, his eyes watering from the noise. He turned to Belle. "Do you have to listen to him shout all over the castle like that very often?"

          She leaned over and gathered an armful of drapes before glancing up, giving her ears time to stop ringing. "No, just when he's really upset about something. He's harmless." She raised a brow at Jefferson when his jaw gaped at her remark. "Why don't you go on up to the library." Belle turned to make her way through the hall to the corridor which led to the kitchens and then outside to her wash bin, but turned to whisper, "And you better hope he didn't hear you call him Lord Sourpuss."

          Rumpelstiltskin stood between two bookshelves on the east side of the library staring out the window at Belle. She was on her fourth trip into the small courtyard where she did the laundry, her arms full of drapes. It was going to take her well into the evening to get everything laundered and it wasn't even lunch yet. He waited until she'd gone back through the kitchen before he twitched his hand. Far below, the drapes scrubbed themselves in the wash bin and hung themselves on the line to dry. That should cut her workload down, he thought smugly.

          "Was that little gesture to apologize for deafening the darling girl?" Jefferson asked from over Rumpelstiltskin's shoulder as he watched the show below.

          "What do you want, hatter?" Rumpelstiltskin asked, refusing to look at the milliner as he crossed to the settee and sat down. Jefferson's lips parted to answer, but no sound passed them as the sofa opened up and swallowed him whole.

          Rumpelstiltskin giggled as he watched the hatter struggle beneath the cushions. After several minutes of him fighting to get out, the sofa opened up and spat Jefferson onto the floor, filthy and bedraggled. Jefferson crawled hastily away from the offending furniture and pulled himself to his feet.

          "You … that …" he stammered, pointing an accusing finger at the mage. "You did that on purpose! Go on, deny it." Jefferson moved next to the window by Rumpelstiltskin's workbench, the farthest spot in the room away from the bedeviled furniture.

          "Well, who else would've done it, dearie? The white rabbit?" Rumpelstiltskin seated himself behind his workbench, his back to Jefferson.  _Now I have to attend the village idiot._ He'd enchanted the sofa, knowing Jefferson was going to intrude upon his solitude and have himself a cup of tea. He hadn't even done it because he’d heard the Lord Sourpuss remark. No, he'd done it because the hatter had made himself at home and immediately started flirting with  _his_  maid. He rolled a clear glass potion bottle in his hands and sneered over his shoulder at Jefferson. "I'll ask once more. What do you want?" he asked, his voice rising in irritation.

          "I brought the mushrooms you asked for," Jefferson said, tossing a small leather pouch onto the worktable.

          "And?"

          "And what?" Jefferson asked innocently.

          Rumpelstiltskin's eyes darkened as his mood spiraled downward. "I don't have time for your games today, Jefferson. What —"

          "Grace is visiting her aunt for a few days and I thought if it —"

          "No."

          "… would be okay with you —"

          "No."

          "… I could perhaps stay here at the castle," Jefferson finished, ignoring the ominous glint in the Dark One's eyes with every emphatic _no_.

          "What would make you think I would want you loafing about the castle for days on end, eating me out of house and home and trying to bed my housekeeper?"  _Lay a hand on her, hatter, and I'll string you across the front gate by your entrails._

          Rumpelstiltskin drew a mortar and pestle off the shelf behind him and tossed the dried mushrooms inside, grinding them into powder with so much force, Jefferson knew there would be new grooves in the bottom. "For one, I don't eat  _that_  much and two, I don't see Belle in such a way. She's a lovely, sweet girl, but she's my friend. I wouldn't ruin my friendship with her just to bed her, Rum. And," Jefferson's voice trailed off as a new realization struck him, "wait a minute … you're not jealous?" he asked, his mouth gaping and his hand slapping his chest over his heart.

          Rumpelstiltskin denied it, of course. "Don't be absurd," he said as he continued to grind the mushrooms.

          Jefferson pointed at him with glee, laughter bubbling from his throat. "You are!"

          "I have no idea what you are talking about," Rumpelstiltskin said in an offhand manner, trying his best to be blasé. The last thing he needed was for Jefferson to learn he was attracted to Belle.  _Did I just admit to myself that I am attracted to Belle? Ack!_  He turned back to his work and stifled a groan, mentally shaking the image of her in his arms from his head.

          Jefferson was nearly hopping from foot to foot with giddiness. "So, what happened?"

          Rumpelstiltskin's eyes lifted from the mortar and pestle in his hands and pierced Jefferson with a murderous stare. "Out."

          "Rumpel —"

          "Out, before I lose my patience and turn you into a snail. I happen to need a nice, slimy, squishy snail for the potion I'm working on," he warned menacingly, turning back to his work.

          "Fine. I'll see you at lunch. Hopefully, your mood will have improved so as not to alarm our lovely Belle." Jefferson ducked the fireball and let it hit the stone wall. "Maybe Belle will tell me what happened. I do so  _love_  to spend time chatting with the darling girl."

          Rumpelstiltskin's lips flattened into a thin line, his eyes narrowing dangerously before he could stop them. He did  _not_  need Jefferson filling Belle's head with fanciful notions of romance. "Stay away from Belle, Jefferson, and you can stay the week," he spat out testily.

          Jefferson leaned against the arch next to the stairwell, his brows pulling together in a frown. "Rumpel, I didn't mean anything. Can't you tell by now when I'm joking?" Rumpelstiltskin didn't answer, his lips firmly pressed together. "Would it really be such a bad idea?"

          "What?" he asked, his head snapping up to stare at Jefferson.

          "To love Belle?"

          For once, Rumpelstiltskin's trademark giggle was curiously absent. "Certainly, Jefferson. I'll fall in love with her and a lovely multi-hued rainbow will permanently shine over the Dark Castle. And let's not forget the fairies and unicorns which will prance and dance to a melodious tune in the courtyard," Rumpelstiltskin snorted derisively.

          Considering how much Rumpelstiltskin loathed fairies, Jefferson knew that wasn't going to happen.  _Well, maybe if Rumpel could use the fairies for target practice._  Jefferson shook his head and looked sadly at his friend, finally realizing the crux of the matter. "You don't think she can love you."

          Rumpelstiltskin slammed the mortar and pestle onto the worktable and disappeared in a puff of thick purple smoke, putting an end to the conversation. Jefferson didn't miss the pain and confusion in his friend's eyes. He left the library, no longer interested in the room and went to seek out Belle. One thing for sure … it was going to be an interesting week at the Dark Castle.


	2. Chapter 2

          Jefferson found Belle in the kitchen wringing her hands on her apron, tendrils of hair - which had escaped the pins - clinging wetly to her temples. He watched her from the doorway, wondering what had her so frazzled. It wasn't like the little brunette to show her distress.

          Belle hastily grabbed two large serving trays from the shelf above her head and tossed them onto the large table which dominated the immense kitchen. She winced as they hit the wooden surface with a clang. If she hadn't been daydreaming while she had been doing the wash, she wouldn't be behind in serving Rumpelstiltskin's lunch. She had gone outside with her last armful of drapes only to scatter them on the ground at her feet, her hands flying to her mouth to mask her surprise. The lines had been brimming with freshly laundered drapes, leaving her with the last remaining few she'd collected from the Great Hall. Of course, her mind had gone straight to her cantankerous master, her eyes darting to the window above her, searching for any sign of him standing there.

          What was happening to them? Why had she felt so funny inside when he'd held her in his arms? She'd lost track of time. Rumpelstiltskin demanded his midday meal be served at precisely eleven forty-five each day. Belle glanced frantically at the clock hanging over the mantle. Rumpelstiltskin had placed it there himself just days after he'd brought her to the Dark Castle to make certain she was on time with his meals. Had he helped her with the laundry, so his meal would be served on time? Or had he had another motive for doing so? The questions whirling in her head were entirely too distracting to keep her on any kind of schedule today.

          Belle glanced up at the clock again and blanched. Three minutes.

          She decided to prepare the tea tray first, arranging the china service and pouring water into the pot to steep the leaves. It was a special blend which had been her father's favorite when she’d lived at home, and Rumpelstiltskin seemed to favor it as well. She only hoped it would soothe his crankiness today. He'd been fine this morning. She couldn't imagine what had gotten into him. Had it really upset him so much, having her in his arms? Had she hurt him with her weight? He'd been mysteriously absent from the library when she'd gone in search of him to ask.

          Belle placed the refilled sugar bowl onto the tray and whirled toward the door to bring the tea service to the Great Hall, nearly running into Jefferson standing in the doorway. The hatter, having observed her frantic dash to prepare lunch, deftly lifted the tray from her hands before it could crash to the floor.

          "Easy, sweetheart. Last I checked, Rumpelstiltskin isn't going to waste away to nothing if his lunch doesn't arrive on time," Jefferson scoffed.

          Belle didn't have time for light banter with Jefferson, no matter that she didn't want to be rude to her friend. She turned her jewel-bright blue eyes to him pleadingly. "Please, Jefferson, would you take the tea in to him? He's already crabby today. I don't want to make it worse."

          "Very well, Belle, but I think you work entirely too hard to please him. He doesn't deserve you," Jefferson said softly, watching her face for a reaction to his words.

          Belle lifted a brow as she moved to the cupboards to take down the bowls for the soup she'd started that morning. "Rumpelstiltskin's just a very complicated man. You're supposed to know that, being his friend, Jefferson. He's very set in his ways and likes things to run smoothly in his home," she explained in her master’s defense.

          "Hmm," Jefferson hummed, turning on his heel to take the tray into the Great Hall. He smiled smugly at Rumpelstiltskin as he set the tray on the table and poured two cups, helping himself to a slice of lemon and a generous amount of honey. He set the tea before Rumpelstiltskin and took his own seat at the long table.

          The Dark One eyed him acidly, not at all happy Jefferson had been in the kitchen with Belle. "Why are you serving my tea, Jefferson? And where is that girl? She's late," he snapped.

          Jefferson grinned into his cup. "She's two minutes late, Rum. Belle is doing her best to hurry … all to please you," he said, watching Rumpelstiltskin from the corner of his eye.

          "The help I gave her with the laundry should have given her plenty of time to finish up and have our meal on the table at the proper time. There is no excuse for —" A high-pitched scream, followed by the sound of breaking dishes cut off his angry tirade mid-sentence.

          The hatter glanced toward the kitchen and rose from his chair to investigate the noise, but Rumpelstiltskin was no longer at the table, leaving behind a tell-tale puff of purple smoke where he'd been sitting. Jefferson slowed his steps, knowing the mage would already be in the kitchen with Belle. But did he really want to miss the altercation which was sure to follow? His steps picked up again, his curiosity getting the better of him. He cracked the kitchen door open with the tip of his boot and crossed his arms over his chest, a smile curving his lips at the scene before him.

          Belle picked up the tray she'd dropped on the stone floor and slammed it down on the counter before she wrapped a small towel around her burned hand. She'd been ladling rich vegetable soup with bits of ham into a bowl and the ladle had slipped, tipping the contents onto the top of her hand. Tears had sprung to her eyes, but she was weak by no means. She wrapped the towel around her hand and tucked the ends toward her palm, stifling the curse springing to her lips, refusing to let it pass. She would serve Rumpelstiltskin's meal to him and  _then_  see to her injury. After all, it wasn't the first time she'd ever injured herself in the kitchen.

          She whirled about to get more bowls from the cupboard and stumbled right into her master. His hands reached out to steady her as she pitched forward and lost her balance. Belle's eyes flew up to lock with his as his hands slid about her waist, heat suffusing her face. "I'm — I'm so s-sorry," she stammered, wondering how she'd suddenly forgotten how to breathe, her words coming out in a breathless whisper. And there was that strange sensation again in her stomach. Maybe she was coming down with something, she thought nervously.

          "Belle, what happened? Why did you scream?" Rumpelstiltskin asked, helping her onto a stool at the worktable. His voice was low, filled with concern as he captured one of her tears on his fingertip. "Why are you crying?"

          "It's nothing," she assured him with a tentative smile. "I just burned my hand. Go on back into the Great Hall and I'll be in momentarily with your meal." Belle made to hop off the stool he'd set her on, but he was faster. He took her wrists in his hands and held her in place.

          "Let me see," he said softly, pulling the towel away from her hand. He winced as he looked down, her alabaster skin angry and pink.

          Belle hissed in pain as the air hit the burn, blinking rapidly to keep her tears at bay. His amber eyes met hers at that sound. "I'm sorry, Belle. I didn't mean to hurt you."

          "It's just a burn, Rumpelstiltskin. It will heal," she shrugged, putting on a brave face and trying to ignore the ripples of pain shooting through her hand. She hadn’t thought it was too bad, but now she could see it was a little worse than she’d feared.

          "Yes, I suppose it will," he said, never taking his eyes from her. Rumpelstiltskin held her captive in his gaze as he channeled his magic into his spell clever fingers and passed it over her burn. He knew if she knew what he was doing, she'd never allow it. Even to take away her injury, he knew she wouldn't approve of his use of magic on her. "There, all better," he murmured, his voice taking on a husky tone from her closeness.

          Belle couldn't break his gaze, and at that moment, she realized she didn't want to. His eyes had darkened with an emotion she'd never seen there before, an emotion she was unfamiliar with. His voice was soft, like fine silk and it washed over her in sensuous waves. And, once again, the butterflies had taken flight in her belly, making her light-headed.

          She shook herself mentally, trying to clear her head. He'd said something to her. "Um … better?"

          Rumpelstiltskin's lips raised slightly in a smile and it robbed her of breath, the beauty of it. It was a genuine smile instead of the smirk he usually wore. A genuine smile aimed at _her_. Belle lifted her hand, aching to touch the smile on his lips, mesmerized by it.

          "Your hand. It's all better," he repeated, equally enraptured with her. Rumpelstiltskin remained perfectly still, breathing her in, afraid if he moved, it would break the spell and she would run from him in horror. Would it really be too much to ask to have this one moment? This one perfect moment for him to savor?

          Jefferson cleared his throat, stepping into the kitchen and startling Belle. "Are we eating lunch … or dinner?" he asked, a small secretive smile playing on his lips.

          Rumpelstiltskin ground his teeth together and lifted Belle's hand to take a quick look, making sure she was completely healed before releasing her and leaving the kitchen. He was afraid if he stayed … Jefferson's chances of becoming a nice squishy snail were getting better and better.

          "Are you alright, Belle?" Jefferson asked, inching forward. "You look a little strange, sweetheart."

          Belle placed a hand over her heart, willing it to slow, afraid it would take flight right out of her chest. She placed her other hand on the worktable to keep from toppling off her perch on the stool. If Jefferson hadn't come through the door, would Rumpelstiltskin have actually kissed her? Did she want him to kiss her? She thought about the strange sensation she'd felt in her stomach. Twice, she'd felt it today and both times she'd been in Rumpelstiltskin's arms. It was driving her mad, trying to sort through it all.

          Jefferson watched the emotions flash across her porcelain features with a satisfied smirk.  _Yep, something's definitely going on with those two._  He moved to the cupboard and removed more bowls, bending over the hearth to fill them and place them on a tray. The enticing smell of freshly baked bread tickled his nose. He dashed to the oven in time to remove two loaves, perfectly baked without a trace of being overdone. He set them on the worktable and sliced them, all the while remaining silent so as not to disturb Belle's peace.

          Finally, she looked up into his face. "You didn't have to do that, Jefferson," she murmured, taking the knife from him. He placed a container of butter on the tray next to the bread with a noncommittal shrug. Belle lifted the tray, her hand catching her attention. She set the tray back on the counter and looked at her hand in disbelief. "He healed me, didn't he," she said, more of a statement, but yearning to hear his confirmation.

          Jefferson nodded, his smile never wavering. "You know Rum. He's not going to —"

          "Belle!"

          Belle lifted the tray and moved through the door Jefferson held open for her, not hesitating another moment as Rumpelstiltskin bellowed for her. "I'm coming," she sing-songed down the corridor, returning Jefferson's smile.

          Jefferson took his seat and laid his napkin across his lap as Belle began setting their food before them. The tension in the Great Hall was building between Belle and Rumpelstiltskin and he was trying not to look like a spectator at a tennis match as his eyes darted between them. Belle was watching Rumpelstiltskin surreptitiously from beneath her lashes and nearly dumped a bowl of soup into Jefferson's lap.

          The corner of Rumpelstiltskin's mouth twitched as Belle apologized and set her attention to serving Jefferson. The hatter glared daggers at the mage for finding humor in almost having his favorite appendage nearly boiled. Belle moved to her master’s side and focused her attention on serving him without spilling a drop of soup on the pristine tabletop. When she'd finished setting his meal before him, she straightened and once again nearly dropped the tray as he grabbed her wrist and pulled her gently towards him.

          She lowered her lashes, peeking at him, her eyes questioning. "Did you require anything else?" she asked, trying to ignore the gooseflesh spreading like a forest fire up the inside of her arm.

          "No. Thank you, Belle. I just wanted to assure myself there were no lingering marks on your hand." He let go of her hand as well as her gaze and turned to his meal, watching her retreating back as he picked up his spoon. He knew the exact moment she glanced over her shoulder and slowed her steps. He could feel those jewel-bright orbs studying him curiously, so attuned to her as he was. He knew if he looked up, she would duck her head and a lovely, rosy blush would creep up her neck to stain her cheeks.

          "Are you going to finish that, or are you trying to find a way to drown yourself in it?" Jefferson asked dryly, his brows raised in question.

          Rumpelstiltskin glanced at Jefferson with an irritated look meant to silence him. Instead, Jefferson leaned back in his chair and proceeded to stuff a good portion of his bread into his mouth. Ignoring his unwelcome guest, Rumpelstiltskin dipped his spoon into his soup and lifted it to his lips, inhaling deeply the rich aroma of Belle's cooking.

          "Have you noticed Belle is unnaturally pale? She really needs to get more sun. What're you doing, keeping her locked away in the dungeon?" Jefferson asked, moving on to sip his tea. He could tell from the way Rumpelstiltskin's hand occasionally shook that he was striking a nerve with each comment or question. A frown was beginning to form between the imp's brows and if he didn't know better, he would think a blush was staining all that skin tinged gray-green with gold flecks from the curse he carried.

          Rumpelstiltskin refused to answer the hatter, concentrating on finishing the meal Belle had prepared so lovingly for their pleasure. He was thankful for her hand in the kitchen considering magic and food just did not mix well. A shudder ran through his body as he remembered some of his failed attempts at conjuring a meal. He glanced at Jefferson. Apparently, he was waiting for an answer.

          "Yes, Jefferson."

          "You actually lock her in the dungeon at night?" he asked, his eyes widening in alarm. "But —"

          "No, I don't lock her in … anymore," Rumpelstiltskin mumbled sheepishly. Why  _was_  she still sleeping in the dungeon? He could have given her any number of the guest rooms upstairs to make her just a wee bit more comfortable. But she had never complained. She always completed her tasks efficiently and in a timely manner, so she was able to sit and read in the evenings. She never asked for anything. If he were to suddenly change her accommodations, wouldn't she become suspicious of his motives? Hell's teeth, what  _were_  his motives?

          Belle returned to the hall to remove their empty dishes, piling them on the tray and effectively cutting Jefferson off as he was about to rebuke Rumpelstiltskin over his shoddy behavior towards the little maid. She set a dessert plate in front of Rumpelstiltskin brimming with peach cobbler and topped with sweetened heavy cream she'd whipped into a frothy light confection. She smiled with satisfaction as he bent forward to smell the heavenly aroma he'd come to crave, a smile of pure contentment lifting his lips.

          She set another dish before Jefferson and leaned down to whisper in his ear. "Eat it fast, Jefferson. Otherwise, he's likely to snatch it away from you."

          Jefferson looked up at her in alarm. "Why, may I ask?"

          Belle shrugged. "It's his favorite." She turned back to Rumpelstiltskin. "I'm afraid that's the last for a while. You've requested it so much lately, I've run out of peaches."

          Rumpelstiltskin scowled at Jefferson and the easy banter he shared with Belle. "You may gather what you need from the trees growing along the castle wall tomorrow while Jefferson and I attend to an errand."

          "You're leaving?" Belle asked, her voice forlorn. Rumpelstiltskin shook himself mentally, refusing to believe she would actually miss him. He would not let  _hope_ \- the eternal deceiver - spring up in his chest. "Wait. I'm not allowed to go near the wall by the gate," Belle frowned, her brows pulling together.

          "Just stay away from the gate, dearie," he reminded her stiffly. "Keep to your word and the wards won't knock you on your arse in the middle of the Great Hall like last time." He jerked his gaze away from her piercing blue eyes lest she see the pain in his own. He was still debating the decision he'd made, unsure if he could actually follow through with it.

          "We're going somewhere?" Jefferson asked, his brows disappearing into his hairline.

          Rumpelstiltskin nodded and closed his lips around a forkful of his favorite dessert, relishing in the cream and the spice of the peaches. His Belle was a wonder in the kitchen. He chewed slowly, mentally kicking himself for calling her his. She'd never want a monster like him and he refused to let himself succumb to daydreams of what would never be. His body tensed as she laid her cool hand atop his shoulder. When did she become comfortable touching him?  _God's pearly teeth! When did this happen? Has it ever happened before?_  he wondered frantically.

          Her voice was soft and filled with concern as she stood there at the side of his chair with her hand lying tentatively atop his shoulder. "Will you be gone very long this time?"

          Rumpelstiltskin closed his eyes briefly, reveling under her innocent touch. He shook himself mentally. "I'll be home tomorrow night, late," he assured her, shrugging out from under her hand and rising from his chair. He stared down at her, closing himself off with a blank stare, refusing to let her in. "Don't wait up, dearie."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hugs & love to all who left a review, marked it favorite or who have decided to follow the story. Thanks so much for reading. I hope you're enjoying the read!


	3. Chapter 3

          Belle tilted her head back, exposing her face to the bright light, a contented smile resting upon her lips. She could almost  _smell_  the sunlight as it warmed her face and neck. She chuckled, knowing one couldn't actually smell sunlight. Her imagination was running wild today. Her eyes closed as she let Jefferson guide her through the garden, the smell of roses permeating the air.

          As much as she enjoyed spending time with her friend, she couldn't help but wish it was Rumpelstiltskin's arm beneath her hand,  _his_ voice ringing softly in her ears as he spun a fanciful tale for her to enjoy, and  _his_  eyes with their soft amber glow which always held her mesmerized. A soft sigh escaped her lips. It would be lovely to spend an afternoon like this with him, but she knew he'd never deign to relax enough, to unbend and remove the mask he showed to the outside world, to just enjoy an afternoon in the garden.

          "Belle, you haven't heard a word I've said, have you?" Jefferson asked, tilting her face up to his to study it.

          Belle flushed guiltily. "I'm sorry, Jefferson. I suppose my mind drifted a bit." She released his arm and moved away from him, unsure if she could talk to him about her newest insecurities. But hadn't it been him who had encouraged her to treat Rumpelstiltskin gently when she'd first been brought to the Dark Castle? It hadn't taken her long to realize her master was all bluster on the surface. Of course, she'd been frightened at first. She'd grown up on stories of the Dark One, stories to frighten children into doing their chores and listening to their parents. But even though the evil of the curse he carried was there for all to see, there was also the gentle soul of the man he'd been long ago. That was who - she now realized - she was beginning to care for.

          Belle's shoulders drooped in hopelessness. She cared for the Dark One ... the Dark One, whom everyone in all the known realms feared and despised, was slowly tunneling his way into her heart. When had this happened? Was it something which had slowly developed over time? She peeked up at Jefferson from beneath her lashes to find him scrutinizing her with his warm grey eyes.

          She squared her shoulders with a new profound sense of determination. After all, she had to know, and who better to answer her questions than her friend. It's not as though she could go to Rumpelstiltskin and ask for his advice. "Jefferson," she began. Her tongue wanted to stick to the roof of her mouth. "I need your advice about … something."

          "Something? Or someone?" he asked, dropping down onto the garden bench, a small knowing smile playing at his lips.

          She glanced at him sharply. Surely, he wasn't thinking … no, he couldn't know about the quandary of thoughts whirling in her head. "Um … I haven't been feeling quite right today."

          "Quite right? Are you ill?" he smirked, realizing where this was going and stifling the laughter building in his chest.

          Belle's hands twisted together in her lap as she sat beside him. "I've been getting this odd feeling in the pit of my stomach whenever I stand … stand too close to Rumpelstiltskin. It's never happened to me before and I don't know where to begin searching for answers. I don't even know if I  _could_  find the answers were I to begin looking in the library."

          "Oh, my darling girl. I doubt very seriously you would find the answers you seek in one of your beloved books," he nodded sagely, striving for a serious, no-nonsense tone. What he really wanted was to roll about on the cobbled path and let his laughter take him away. Thankfully, he restrained his glee.

          "Then you know what's wrong with me?" she asked hopefully.

          "Perhaps," he said thoughtfully. "Let's conduct a little experiment, shall we? To test my theory."

          Belle eyed him warily. "What kind of experiment?"

          "I think it would be easier to show you," he told her, gently pulling her into his embrace, his arms sliding about her waist and drawing her against his chest.

          Belle braced her hands against Jefferson's chest, her eyes widening in alarm. "Jefferson, what are you doing!?"

          "Relax, Belle. I promise I haven't set out to compromise your virtue." Jefferson skimmed his hand along her back, soothing her gently. "Trust me."

          Belle forced herself to relax in his embrace, and he could feel the tension drain from her. She let him pull her firmly against his chest and she closed her eyes, resting her head against his shoulder.

"Now, tell me what you feel. Are you feeling as you did earlier with Rumpel?" he asked softly, already knowing the answer. Oh, this was just too delicious. He twirled a stray lock of hair around his finger and tipped her chin up to meet his gaze.

          "No. No, I don't," she whispered, a puzzled frown drawing her brows together. "Actually, I feel much like I do when my father offers me comfort. Was I supposed to feel the butterflies?"

          Jefferson's ego took a severe blow at that estimation, but he squelched his desire to prove he could arouse a stronger emotion in her. He knew she was destined for Rumpelstiltskin, no matter how much he might wish otherwise. Who was he to deny his friends their own happiness? He cleared his throat. "Alright. Close your eyes."

          "Why?" she asked suspiciously as he released her from his embrace. She studied his features, looking for any signs of mischief.

          "Trust me, Belle. I'm only trying to help you."

          Throwing caution, and any good sense she might have had, straight out the window, Belle did as he asked and closed her eyes.

          His voice came next to her ear in a soft whisper. "Now think of Rumpel. Think of him as he was when your symptoms first started."

          Belle could hear the smile in his voice, making her smile in return. Then she opened herself up and did as he said. She thanked the gods she was sitting down as an onslaught of emotions enveloped her. She could feel him holding her when she'd fallen from the ladder, see the deep emotion in his eyes. She remembered him holding her hands in the kitchen when he'd healed her hand from the burn, her gaze captive in his and that lovely tender smile she'd wanted to kiss away from his lips.

          Her eyes flew open as she bolted from the bench, her hand covering her heart and willing it to slow. She met Jefferson's gaze, her eyes wide and full of the need to take flight. Jefferson rose from the bench and grasped her upper arms. "Belle, what is it? What are you feeling now?"

          Belle shook her head to clear it, forcing herself to calm. "I can't breathe. I feel as though my stomach is going to take flight. And my heart … my heart ..." She let her voice trail away. She wanted to  _kiss_  Rumpelstiltskin. She  _wanted him._  She was thankful for Jefferson's strong hold upon her, thankful he was there to hold her upright as the strength threatened to leave her legs.

          Jefferson lowered her gently back onto the bench. "Have you figured it out, sweetheart?" he asked gently. "You  _desire_  him. You  _want_  him. You might even find yourself loving him ... just a wee bit?" he asked, raising a brow in question. "If he'd held you as I did a moment ago, would you have let him kiss you?"

 

*.*.*

 

          Rumpelstiltskin paced angrily before the immense hearth in the Great Hall, pausing occasionally to glare at Jefferson who was hanging upside down over the dining table in a blue haze of magic. The hatter's face was a satisfying shade of puce.

          "I'm only going to ask once more, Jefferson. What've you done to upset Belle?" Rumpelstiltskin asked, his eyes glowing brightly with his fury. "She's been avoiding me all afternoon and all through dinner she was acting oddly."

          Jefferson shrugged, the gesture comical in his present position. "How should I know?" he asked, feigning innocence. He wasn't about to tell Rumpelstiltskin about Belle's earth-shattering revelation that she had feelings for the imp. He had a feeling it would do nothing but torture him into further self-loathing and depression, feeling as though he were unworthy. Then again, he would probably dismiss Jefferson's words as utter nonsense.

          "I know you took her out to the rose garden, Jefferson. Did she say anything to you? Anything out of the ordinary?" he asked, determined to discover the truth.

          All through dinner, as she'd served them, she'd refused to meet his eyes. Her usually bright smile had been mysteriously absent, and her steady hands had been unnervingly shaky. The one time his fingers had accidentally brushed hers, she'd nearly dropped his steaming cup of tea in his lap.

          His pacing stopped abruptly as he remembered the brush of her fingertips and the heat which had shot up his arm like a brush fire, spreading a warm glow over his entire body. Belle had practically  _run_  back to the kitchen in her haste to be away from him. No doubt running away in revulsion, he thought bitterly. And they had been getting on so well together, finding comfort in the other's companionship. His lip curled up into a sneer. He was definitely torching that blasted ladder. If she hadn't slipped, none of this would be happening.

          "She didn't say anything to me," Jefferson insisted, trying to focus on Rumpelstiltskin's wavering form as the blood continued to rush to his head. "If you're so concerned about her odd behavior, Rum, go talk to her."

          The object of their conversation chose that moment to enter the Great Hall, seeking the comfort of her favorite sofa situated next to Rumpelstiltskin's spinning wheel. The book slipped to the floor with a loud thwack, her hands flying up to cover her mouth. "What is going on in here?" she asked, disbelief in her quavering voice. Her eyes pierced her master, reprimanding him silently. "Rumpelstiltskin! Is this how you treat a guest in your home? A friend?"

          Rumpelstiltskin waved a hand at Jefferson, releasing him from the blue haze. Jefferson crashed onto the dining table and groaned. Belle rushed to his side to inspect the crown of his head. "He'll be fine, dearie," Rumpelstiltskin snorted. "It's not like he landed on anything important."

          Belle and Jefferson shot twin expressions of exasperation at him, but all Rumpelstiltskin did was raise his brow, daring them to say anything. He turned his back on them and moved to the spinning wheel, effectively dismissing them. Belle assured herself Jefferson wasn't injured and helped him off the table.

          "I prepared a room for you, Jefferson, for when you're ready to use it," Belle said to him. "It's in the east wing, third door on the right."

          "Thank you, sweetheart," Jefferson grinned as he leaned down to kiss Belle's cheek. He choked on a chuckle when Rumpelstiltskin turned his narrowed amber gaze on him in warning. "I'll come to say good-bye before we take our leave in the morning."

          "Goodnight, Jefferson. I hope you rest well." Belle watched him leave the Great Hall before moving to retrieve her book from the floor. She could feel Rumpelstiltskin's eyes the moment they touched her, and she could just as easily feel the heat start to rise in her face.

 _I'm not looking. I'm not looking. I refuse to look._  Belle sat down on the sofa and removed her shoes, tucking her feet beneath her and seeking a comfortable position, all the while resisting the urge to peek at him from beneath her lashes. She settled her book on her lap, a modest tome with the picture of a pirate ship emblazoned on the cover. She opened the book and found the place where she'd left off earlier, the words swimming before her eyes. She'd read the same paragraph three times before the urge to look up overwhelmed her.

          Belle peeked at him from beneath her lashes. Rumpelstiltskin quickly lowered his gaze, feeling the heat rise in his own face, unnerved to have been caught staring at her. He couldn't seem to help himself. The wheel moved absently beneath his hand, almost forgotten as he'd watched her settle comfortably on the sofa, wishing he could join her there.

          "Rumpelstiltskin?" she asked hesitantly, his name uncertain on her tongue. He raised his eyes to hers, a tiny tremor racing along his spine. He was imagining it. He had to be. He refused to believe there was longing in her level stare. He merely raised a brow at her. "Would you like me to read to you?"

          Rumpelstiltskin ground his teeth together, praying for strength as her voice washed over him like a soft caress. "What are you reading?" he asked, feigning disinterest and concentrating on the steady creak of the wheel beneath his palm.

          Belle's smile was radiant as she glanced down at the book on her lap. "It's about pirates, and buried treasure and rescuing the fair maiden from the clutches of an evil lord who stole her away from her pirate love. It's really quite fascinating, so far."

          Rumpelstiltskin raised a skeptical brow at her. "It sounds like a bunch of romantic drivel." Belle's shoulders drooped, and her happy smile began to falter. He kicked himself mentally and ran his hand down the length of his face. "But you may read aloud if it is your wish," he added hastily, unwilling to cause her unhappiness over something so trivial. He sighed deeply as her brilliant smile hitched back into place and her melodic voice began to fill the corners of the Great Hall, chasing away the gloominess and shadows.

          Rumpelstiltskin was on his feet and halfway to the sofa before he realized the spinning wheel was no longer beneath his hand. Her sweet voice was drawing him to her, mesmerizing him until he didn't have control, her lovely voice luring him to her side. Belle stopped reading, her gaze capturing his, a question in those jewel-bright orbs. He shook himself and changed direction, his feet carrying him to the hearth to stoke the dying fire.  _For the love of the gods! What was happening to him?_   _Next, she'll be asking me to sit with her. Like that would ever happen._

          Belle ground her teeth together in frustration. He'd been so close, only to stubbornly pull away at the last moment. She'd spent the remainder of the afternoon arguing with herself over her tumultuous feelings for her master, coming to the realization she didn't want to fight what she was feeling for him. She'd never shied away from a challenge in her life, no matter how frightening. And yes, she admitted to herself, she was frightened of what she felt for him. But she was more frightened to bottle those feelings and let them pass her by. She  _needed_  him _, wanted_ him. The man he kept buried deep inside.

          Gathering her courage, Belle placed her finger inside the book to mark her place. "Rumpelstiltskin?" she asked, praying her voice would hold firm. His head turned slightly, giving her his attention. "Why don't you sit with me for a while? We still have several chapters before the end," she coaxed.

          His gaze swung to her, his eyes glowing gold in the firelight. Belle smiled, seeing that unknown emotion in their depths, that emotion she was determined to discover more fully. "Oh, come on. You know you want to know how it ends."

          Rumpelstiltskin felt the sultry pull of her voice again as he felt his foot move forward in a hesitant step towards her. Belle patted the sofa cushion next to her invitingly, her smile never wavering. The story be damned. He couldn't care less about the blasted story. It was her he wanted. The desire to sit next to her in that small space finally won out over any misgivings he may have had, that same desire propelling his unwilling body across the room to her side.

          Belle didn't move an inch as he sat down beside her, his body stiff and unyielding. "Relax, Rumpelstiltskin. I promise not to bite you."  _Yet,_ she added silently, a small secretive smile curving her lips. His gaze swung to her face, taken aback by her small jest. She ignored his frown and settled back against the cushions, turning slightly towards him and opening her book once more.

          Rumpelstiltskin tried to do as she asked and propped his booted feet atop the low table in front of the sofa, crossing them at the ankle. He laced his fingers together across his midsection and laid his head against the sofa back, closing his eyes as she resumed the story. He turned his head to her, the frown creasing his brow slowly receding as her voice carried him deeper into her tale. But he couldn't relax completely, not with her shoulder leaning so lightly against his own, almost as if she couldn't be more content to rest against him. He inhaled deeply, the scent of roses and something else, something unmistakably Belle sending a wave of pleasure along every one of his nerve endings.

          When was the last time he could simply sit and bask in the pleasure of a woman? Never, he realized. He'd never cared to have a woman sit so close to him and just be content with his presence. But then, he'd never cared for anyone as he cared for her. Her voice soothed him. He wasn't listening to the words; his senses were being ravaged by the sweet sound of her voice. He wondered what she would do if he twirled that stray curl, resting against her shoulder, around his finger. He shook himself out of his reverie. She would run screaming from the room, her face twisted in horror that he'd dared to touch her, he thought miserably.

          "You're not relaxing, Rumpelstiltskin," Belle said, emitting a loud sigh. He cracked his eyes open to meet her gaze, drowning in pools of blue. "If you don't relax, you're going to wake up in a terrible mood tomorrow and be miserable to deal with at breakfast. Then you’ll be cranky and downright surly as you set out on your errand." His eyes widened in surprise, a genuine laugh threatening to bubble forth from his parted lips. "Won't you at least try?"

          "Cheeky wench," he quipped, bringing the smile back to her lips. "Very well. Continue." He closed his eyes once more and relaxed back into the cushions, letting her voice soothe him once more. He tried to concentrate solely on her dulcet tones, refusing to let his recriminations distract him.

          Belle's voice trailed off into a soft yawn as she listened to Rumpelstiltskin's breathing turn deep and even. She smiled tenderly at his face, his features softened in sleep, the firelight dancing along the gold flecks in his complexion. She caught her bottom lip between her teeth, chewing it thoughtfully. To her, he was like a brand new book she had yet to explore. Did she dare? What if she woke him?  _Stop being a goose_ , she scolded herself. She stretched out her hand, hesitating moments before she laid it against his cheek. Her eyes closed as she reveled in the softness of his skin beneath her hand.

          Rumpelstiltskin remained as still as a statue beneath her fingertips as she trailed them over his lips, refusing to let her know just how awake he was. He'd merely been relaxing as she had wished, remaining completely still and exerting an iron will over his breathing as her voice trailed off. Too bad he couldn't use that same control over the white-hot lust which shot to his groin at her innocent touch. He had to bite down hard on his tongue to squelch a groan as her fingers curled into the hair at the nape of his neck.

          Belle shivered slightly as her fingers curled into his hair. If she had been a cat, she would have purred with the sheer pleasure of all that soft hair nuzzling her hand. She yawned again and rested her cheek against his chest, just over his heart. Her contentment shattered as he shifted beneath her, his arm curling around her waist to draw her across his chest. She slowly raised her head to gaze up at him, afraid she'd finally woken him. No, she thought with relief. He'd merely shifted them into a position more to his liking. She reached carefully behind her and lifted the blanket off the back of the sofa, spreading it over them.

          Belle again pressed her cheek to his chest and snuggled into his embrace. She couldn't rise and go to bed, she reasoned with herself. She didn't want to risk waking him. Besides, she was quite comfortable in his arms. It was much better than returning to her small bed downstairs with its lumpy mattress. It might be the only time he would ever hold her like this and she was loathe to give up even a moment of his embrace. She would, no doubt, have to deal with his anger come morning, but for tonight she pushed that thought aside and drifted to sleep, a happy smile upon her lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/n: Poor hatter … he’s doing the best he can, lol.


	4. Chapter 4

          Several things registered in Rumpelstiltskin's fuzzy sleep-addled brain at once. One … He was  _not_  in his bed as he should be. Two … He groaned as he looked down at the lovely chestnut curls spilling over the top of the blanket and across his arm. Belle was deliciously curled around him like a second skin, both of her legs wrapped around one of his. Three … No, he wasn't even going to dwell on where his thigh was, pressed to the very core of her.  _No! No! No!_ He hadn't planned on falling asleep with her. He'd just been so reluctant to let go of her, to banish her to the dungeon and out of his mind. His entire body tensed for flight as he tried to ease his arm from around her waist without waking her. This was going to be nearly impossible.

          He eased the blanket away from her face and studied her, listening to her deep and even breaths. Still asleep, Belle's hand tightened in his hair, her fingers woven through the strands. How was it possible she could get any closer? His eyes very nearly rolled all the way back in his head as she pressed her face into his neck, her lips against his rapidly beating pulse. He was beginning to rethink his earlier plans to disentangle himself from her arms. He mentally kicked himself. Hard. This was Belle. He couldn't take advantage of her, no matter how much his body demanded it.

          "Mmmm ... Rumpel," Belle murmured, shifting her hips slightly.

 _Rumpel?_   _Since when does she call me_   _Rumpel_? His mind was waging a silent war over what he wanted and what he could never have.

          "Belle?" His tongue was trying to stick itself to the roof of his mouth. "Belle," he repeated, clearing his throat. He squeezed her hip gently. He didn't want to frighten her, although how he could avoid such was beyond him. A good blood-curdling scream would do him a world of good and maybe tame some of the lust raging through his veins.

          "Belle," he said again, but with more volume. Rumpelstiltskin felt her stiffen in his arms. He could actually feel the blush rise in her cheeks where they were pressed into his neck. Finally, success! The castle could fall down around her ears and she'd sleep through it all.

          Belle leaned as far back as his arm would allow and looked up at him with wide startled eyes, waiting for him to begin his tirade, bracing herself for the impact. While she waited, she took stock of her limbs. She removed her hand from his hair and let it slide down to his open collar.  His eyes darkened with the same intriguing emotion she’d glimpsed there the day before.  _Oops! Perhaps not such a good idea,_ she thought, biting down on her bottom lip.  His eyes immediately dropped to her mouth and she forgot how to breathe. He called attention to their compromising position by moving his thigh against her where she’d straddled it in her sleep.

          Rumpelstiltskin's tongue darted out to wet his suddenly dry lips. "I suppose you have a reasonable explanation for this?" he asked, his gaze never leaving her mouth.

          Belle wanted nothing more than to pull his head down, to see if he would let her kiss him. But he was so unpredictable, she didn't want to move and break the spell so firmly wrapped around them. She didn't want him to reject her. "Um ... No, not really," she replied, her voice coming out in a breathless whisper.

          His eyes lifted to hers, unwilling to believe what he was seeing there. His hand slipped into the hair at her nape, tugging until her throat was exposed to him. Belle gasped as his lips trailed up the curve of her throat to rest against her ear. "What do you  _want_ , Belle?" he asked, burying his face in the fragrant strands of her hair, breathing her in.

          "I — I want —" she stammered, the sensations he was invoking in her robbing her of speech. His breath escaped in a low hiss as her nails curled into his chest. "Rumpel." A whimper escaped her parted lips, the sound begging him to close the distance between them.

          Rumpelstiltskin's head jerked away from her, poised and listening. Whistling.  _Damnit, Jefferson!_  He sat up abruptly, pulling Belle along with him. "Quickly! You don't want Jefferson to see you like this," he told her, his voice coming to her in a low hiss. "Belle!"

          "Jefferson?" she asked, brushing her lips against his neck. Rumpelstiltskin set her gently on her feet, hoping the cold stones would shock some sense into her. Her eyes widened fearfully. It was one thing to wake up in a compromising position, but altogether different being caught in one. She stood frozen to the stones, her body thrumming with desire while Jefferson was just moments from bursting through the door of the Great Hall, no doubt demanding his breakfast. She turned pleading eyes on Rumpelstiltskin before swiping up her shoes and making a mad dash for the corridor leading down to the dungeon.

          Rumpelstiltskin raked a hand through his hair and collapsed back onto the sofa as Jefferson strolled into the Great Hall. If looks could kill, the hatter would be a gooey mess beneath the sorcerer's boot. He ignored the hatter, concentrating on Belle for a moment and wondering how he was going to make it up to her this time.

          "You look like hell, Rum. What happened to you?" Jefferson asked, coming to stand next to him.

          He could well imagine he looked a mess after Belle's hands had been in his hair for several hours. Not that he didn't always look ghastly, he thought morosely. He snapped his fingers, his clothes changing instantly. Hopefully, he presented a better picture now. He raised his brows at Jefferson in askance.

          "Much improved," Jefferson snarked dryly. "And just where is Belle? No breakfast, no tea and no Belle." He regarded Rumpelstiltskin with his narrowed gaze. "And yet you're not bellowing for her. What are you  _not_  telling me?"

          Rumpelstiltskin's odd complexion paled slightly under Jefferson's close scrutiny. "Snails, hatter."

          Jefferson – for once, out of a desperate act of self-preservation -closed his mouth.

 

*.*.*

 

          Roiling with emotions, Belle skidded to a halt in the doorway of her  _room_. She approached her bed slowly and hesitantly put her hand on the large gift box sitting atop the mattress. Since when did Rumpelstiltskin send her gifts? Usually when he wanted her to have something it just appeared there, thrown haphazardly across the bed, but never in a gift box with a large blue bow. She groaned inwardly. He must be feeling guilty.

          Soon the recriminations and self-loathing would begin. Why couldn't he just let a little happiness into his misery?

          Belle pulled the top off the box, her curiosity getting the better of her. She peered cautiously into the box and gasped. He must be feeling extremely guilty. A note was lying atop the lovely sapphire blue dress inside.

 

_I'm starving! Hurry and change._

 

_R_

 

          She decided she would take it as a sign he wasn't trying to apologize, especially since he had nothing for which to be sorry. Belle lifted the dress from the box to find more gifts lying in the bottom in the form of shoes and two sapphire encrusted combs for her hair.  _He's lost his mind_ , she thought with a grin. Did he really think she could go about her chores in the lovely velvet dress? She ran her hand over the material in a loving caress, knowing it would hug her waist perfectly. It had a deeply scooped neckline and long fitted sleeves. It was lovely. But if she didn't wear it, it would hurt his feelings.

          Another note poofed into existence atop the mattress.

 

_Five minutes, Belle! Cease the internal debate and put the dress on._

 

_R_

 

          Childishly, she stared up at the ceiling and stuck her tongue out. Five minutes, indeed! Nevertheless, she whipped the blue gown over her head and exchanged it for the velvet gown. Bliss! She couldn't remember the last time her skin had been caressed by such fine fabric. She slid her feet into the slippers and twisted her hair atop her head, securing it with the combs. It was the best she could do in her haste to beat his blasted time constraints.

          A fire had already been started in the hearth when she burst into the kitchen, the kettle hanging from a hook over the flames. She knew he would be in a hurry this morning to be off on his journey and wondered what she could prepare quickly. Praying he wouldn't be too angry at the delay, she set about fixing his tea tray.

 

*.*.*

 

          Rumpelstiltskin tented his fingers under his chin and waited, trying to ignore the endless prattle spewing from Jefferson's mouth, his eyes fixed on the door to the corridor leading into the kitchen. Was she angry with him, he wondered for the umpteenth time? He glanced at the clock on the mantel. Eight forty-seven. He opened his mouth to bellow for her and just as quickly snapped it shut. Jefferson looked at him with a puzzled frown, but he ignored him. Where was she? Guilt and endless waiting were not happy bedfellows.

          A flash of deepest blue caught his eye as Belle peeked around the door to gauge his mood. Rumpelstiltskin kept his face impassive as he beckoned her forward. In three centuries, he'd never seen a woman as lovely as she was in the velvet dress. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair as his leathers tightened painfully across his groin. This is  _not_  what he needed right now. Jefferson's jaw dropped open as Belle came into sight and he swung his gaze to Rumpelstiltskin in surprise.

          The Dark One whacked him in the back of his head with the palm of his hand. "Stop ogling my housekeeper, hatter!" he hissed furiously. That was his privilege. He refused to tolerate it from Jefferson. He watched Belle's blush deepen as she leaned forward to pour tea into their cups. He winced. Maybe he shouldn't have made the neckline quite so low.

          He turned his attention to Jefferson, to get the Hatter's attention away from Belle. "Jefferson," he growled, his teeth clenched and bared. "Go fetch the breakfast tray for Belle. And do take your time."

          Belle swallowed around the lump in her throat as Jefferson winked at her on his way to the kitchen. She peeked at Rumpelstiltskin from beneath her long lashes. He didn't look happy. Her father's words drifted to her.  _Belle, my girl, never try to have a decent conversation with a man whose stomach is empty._  Judging from the fire blazing in the depths of those golden eyes, she didn't have much of a choice. Maybe she could deflect his anger.

          Rumpelstiltskin waited until Belle reached his side and set the tea cup on the table, before he rose to face her. He refused to deny himself the pleasure of watching her walk the length of the table, her hips swaying gently. He took her hand in his, the pad of his thumb brushing her palm. "I owe you an apology," he said stiffly and formally.

          Belle jerked her eyes up to his. His guilt was eating him alive. Why did it always have to be one baby step forward and ten giant steps back? She raised her chin stubbornly. "No, you don't." She hesitantly placed her hand against his chest, over his heart. "You don't owe me anything, Rumpelstiltskin."

          He couldn't mask the pain which washed over his features, leaving him vulnerable to her ridicule. "Belle, I'm sorry. I should have sent you straight to bed last night. Then," he paused, searching for the right words. "Then you wouldn't have been subject to my advances this morning."

          Belle took another step towards him, closing the distance between them, a smile curving her lips. "Did it never occur to you that I wanted to be exactly where I was? That I don’t regret waking up in your arms?"

          "What?!" he hissed. Surely, he couldn't have heard her correctly.

          Belle took another step, treading carefully. Rumpelstiltskin still held her hand. She turned it and twined her fingers with his. "Thank you for my gift. It was very thoughtful. But I will not accept another gift from you if you only give it to me because you feel guilty."

          "Belle —"

          Jefferson returned to the Great Hall with their breakfast and Belle pulled away from Rumpelstiltskin, effectively ending their brewing argument and returning to the kitchen. Let him stew over that a bit, she thought dryly. It was time he learned to open himself up to some happiness and stopped dwelling in his darkness. He'd had three centuries to practice his self-loathing, how was she supposed to break down the walls around his heart?

          "I wasn't finished, Belle," Rumpelstiltskin whispered near her ear. Belle dropped the tray on the worktable with a loud bang and covered her heart with her hand.

          "How many times have I asked you not to do that? You have two perfectly good legs, Rumpelstiltskin. You don't need to poof all over the castle," she hissed furiously. She turned away from him and stacked the dishes in the sink.

          "I didn't give it to you out of guilt," he scoffed, picking up the paring knife from the worktable and running the blade underneath his thumbnail.

          Belle whirled about to face him and raised her brows in disbelief. "Really? You're lying," she accused.

          "I am not," he insisted indignantly.

          "Yes, you are."

          "How do you know?"

          "You're fidgeting. You only fidget when you're lying." She skirted around him and placed the tray back on the shelf above her head. "Can we continue this pointless conversation later, perhaps? I really have a great deal of work to do and I don't have time to listen to you tell me why you're sorry about waking up in my arms."

          "It won't happen again. And I  _am_  truly sorry."

          Belle's shoulders drooped in despair at his tone, but she didn't turn to look at him. She wouldn't be able to convince him of her feelings now anyway. "Have a safe trip, Rumpelstiltskin."

          He stopped with his hand on the door handle. "Don't forget the peaches, Belle."

          She rolled her eyes in irritation. Leave it to him to remember his sweet tooth. "I won't. I'll see you tonight, and we will be having this conversation again, Rumpelstiltskin."

          He left without another sound. He couldn't speak because the words lodged in his throat.  _Goodbye, Belle._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you so much for your reviews and support. I really hope everyone enjoyed the last chapter. I hope it cleared up any 'pairing' questions you might have had.


	5. Chapter 5

          "So, are you going to tell me about your little errand, or not?"

          Rumpelstiltskin glared at Jefferson, his lips curling back over his teeth in a disgusted sneer. "Must you constantly question my motives?" He handed Jefferson a small vial of green liquid which swirled ominously against the glass. "Here, drink this."

          Jefferson eyed the potion suspiciously. "This won't turn me into a snail, will it?"

          Rumpelstiltskin smiled. "I don't need a potion for that, dearie." They were standing in the Dark Castle's main courtyard near the gate. Rumpelstiltskin was being more mysterious than usual in Jefferson's opinion. And since when did he want Jefferson to accompany him on one of his infamous deals? Jefferson tossed back the potion, the heavy liquid making him gag. Rumpelstiltskin smirked at the hatter and drank from his own vial.

          "I don't feel any different," Jefferson snorted, examining his hands for any strange reactions.

          "Wait for it," Rumpelstiltskin said, impatient to begin his task.

          "Wait for wh —" The words died in Jefferson's throat as Rumpelstiltskin disappeared from view, but without his usual puff of purple smoke. He merely faded into nothingness. "Rum?" Jefferson looked down at his hands again - or where his hands should've been - only to find his entire body missing.

          "Trust me, hatter. You don't want to miss this." He linked his arm through Jefferson's and teleported them to ... the top of the castle wall.

          Jefferson's face fell with disappointment, not that his friend could see it, invisible as they were. "This is what I don't want to miss?" he asked dryly.

          "Patience, Jefferson. We have twelve hours until the potion wears off. Hopefully, once I reveal my plan, it will be twelve _silent_ hours.” Rumpelstiltskin stepped away from the hatter and withdrew a heavy gold amulet from his cloak. A pulse of blue magic radiated from the amulet, making the hair on the back of Jefferson's neck stand on end.

          "What was that?"

          It was a moment before Rumpelstiltskin answered, his voice holding a wealth of sadness. "I removed the ward on the castle which holds Belle captive inside."

          "Wait. You're letting her go?" Jefferson asked in disbelief. "Why didn't you just tell her? Why the secret spy act?"

          "It has to be her choice."

          "What about her promise, her deal with you?" he asked quietly, refusing to believe Rumpelstiltskin would so easily give her up.

          "It doesn't matter."

          "You love her."

          The mage, for once, was silent. No quips, his trademark giggle absent. He thanked the gods he was invisible, so Jefferson couldn't see the tear which escaped his eye to roll down his gold flecked cheek. He wouldn't admit that even to himself. Love was hope and the one thing he had turned his back on centuries ago when he'd let his son slip into a swirling green vortex. He wouldn't dare hope Belle could actually want him. He was a monster and therefore unworthy of her.

          "It's done. Now silence that hole in your face and wait. Don't make me remove your wagging tongue, Jefferson. Once it spends twelve hours inside the pocket of my cloak, nothing will taste right for at least six weeks." Rumpelstiltskin ground his teeth in vexation. He wished he could have left the hatter with Belle at the castle, but he knew she'd never leave if Jefferson were there to stop her.

          Jefferson blanched, the color leaving his face. He covered his mouth with both hands and sat back against the wall to wait.

 

*.*.*

 

          Belle's usual cheery demeanor was firmly back in place as she ventured into the main courtyard of the Dark Castle. She was determined to enjoy the afternoon stripping the peach trees of their fruit. Although, Rumpelstiltskin's obsession with all things sweet left her smiling. She'd saved the last piece of cobbler for when he returned this evening, knowing she wouldn't be able to prepare, cook and jar an entire batch of peaches and then bake them into a fresh dessert before he returned that night.

          Setting the basket she carried on the ground at her feet, she looked up into the first tree, pulling a peach from the branch and holding it to her nose. Of course, he would have the most perfect trees in the realm being the all-powerful Dark One. The vegetable garden in the rear of the Dark Castle was testament to that. Did he use magic for everything? Her mind drifted to him as she pulled the peaches from the branches and placed them in the basket.

          Where was he? Was Jefferson behaving himself and offering his assistance or was he more in the way and practicing his usual brand of mischief? It made her melancholy to think of his deals and how lovely it would be to accompany him. The places she'd see - where before she'd only read of them in her books - and the things she'd share with him. If only he would trust her.

          So lost in her thoughts, Belle wasn't prepared for the strong wind which tore through the courtyard, spilling peaches everywhere and sending them rolling towards the gate. Rumpelstiltskin hated clutter of any kind, including his lovely manicured grounds. She couldn't let him come home and find fruit strewn everywhere to rot in the sun.

          Belle emitted a very unladylike groan when she noticed several peaches had rolled entirely outside the gate. He was going to find some way to blame her for this. They weren't that far outside. Maybe if she knelt at the very edge and reached out, she might be able to somehow reach them. She walked quickly to the opening. Why had he left the gate wide open, she wondered. It wasn't like Rumpelstiltskin to leave the gate open to anyone who might wander up to the castle. She shivered, remembering the Robin Hood altercation.

          The former princess had learned enough since her arrival at the Dark Castle to know if she stretched out her hand it would encounter the ward he'd set in place and it would trigger a blue haze, warning her away. But would it let her possibly stick her arm through it to retrieve the fruit? Her teeth worried her lip, her brow drawing together in concentration. She did  _not_  want to end up flat on her backside in the middle of the Great Hall again. She'd rather forget about her failed escape attempt, thank you very much. Rumpelstiltskin still laughed about that one.

          Kneeling, Belle pushed against where she thought the ward should be, lost her balance and sprawled face first into the dirt. She lifted her head, her eyes wide with disbelief. She was  _outside_  the castle walls. Actually, she was lying half inside and half outside, the blue haze of magic shimmering around her midsection. How had she breached the wards? How was this possible? Excitement coursed through her veins, the possibilities set forth before her, limitless.

          Belle cast her gaze to the road before her, the road leading home. Away from the Dark Castle. She took a tentative step forward, the image of her father filling her mind's eye. She thought of her friends, her father's castle, even her betrothed and her steps slowed. Tears were beginning to fall unchecked down her face. One image erased every one of the others. She could see Rumpelstiltskin sitting at his spinning wheel, slowly turning it under his hand. The drapes were nailed back over the windows, blocking out the light. Her Rumpel, lost and alone and refusing to let the light of the world into his darkness.  _Her_  Rumple left alone with his self-loathing and recriminations.

          She fell to her knees in the road and wrapped her arms around herself to hold the pain inside. She couldn't do it. Why couldn't she leave when he constantly pushed her away? Because Avonlea wasn't her home anymore, she realized. The Dark Castle had become her home. _Rumpelstiltskin_ was her home.  Wherever he was,  _that_  was her home. And in that moment, with her pain coursing down her cheeks in rivulets, she knew she loved him. She couldn't leave him. It would be easier to rip out her own heart and dance upon it. She imagined him coming home this evening and searching the castle for her and her heart broke a little more.

          Long ago, when she had made her deal with Rumpelstiltskin to serve him, she'd told her father no one would decide her fate but her. Belle picked herself up from the road and dried her tears on her sleeve. Once again, she was choosing her fate and once more she was choosing Rumpelstiltskin. Only this time she wasn't offering to be his servant forever, but his love. She turned back towards the Dark Castle, gathering the fallen peaches in her skirt and walking confidently back through the gate. Now if she could only convince him to come into the light with her.

 

*.*.*

 

          Clenched teeth, ragged breathing, his hands balled into fists, Rumpelstiltskin watched Belle fall through the gate to land in the dirt. It was done. She was going to leave. She was going to leave  _him._ He could feel the icy breath of loneliness raise the hair at his nape. Jefferson grabbed his arm and tugged him closer to the wall to peer down at her. He didn't want to watch. He was already in agony; why should he have to watch her walk down that road until she was out of sight, gone from his life even though she'd promised him forever.  _Her choice, her choice, her choice._  It was a cacophony of pain stabbing at his brain.

          Rumpelstiltskin couldn't let her go without granting himself one last look at her retreating back. With each step she took, he could feel her footsteps pounding into his heart. He closed his eyes, unable to look any longer and slumped back against the wall. Unfortunately, he had the hatter with him.

          Jefferson heard Rumpelstiltskin as he slid down the wall in despair, but his eyes never left Belle. She was too hesitant in her steps, too unsure as she glanced behind her at the Dark Castle. Another step and she halted. Jefferson jerked sharply on Rumpelstiltskin's arm, urging him to watch. "Will you get over here, Rum? Get up!" he hissed in a furious whisper. "Look!"

          Rumpelstiltskin looked over the wall in time to see Belle's knees give out under her. He watched in horror as she wrapped her arms around herself and wailed in pain. "Belle ..." Her name was a mere breath on his lips. He had to go to her, comfort her. He didn't realize he was preparing to jump from the wall until he felt Jefferson's hand wrapping in his cloak, pulling him back. "Let go, Jefferson. I have to —"

          "Shhh! She'll hear you. This elaborate scheme of yours isn't going to work if you go vaulting over the wall to slay her dragons and yank her into your arms for true love's kiss, you ass!" Jefferson whispered, wanting nothing more than to slap his friend silly. "You said it yourself. It has to be her choice. How's she supposed to make her  _choice_  with her not-so prince charming glowering at her?"

          Rumpelstiltskin growled low in his throat as he slid once more down the wall. He refused to sit there and watch Belle suffer, helpless to do anything to comfort her. "What's she doing now?"

          "Crying."

          "Not helping, hatter."

          "Wait. Rum, look.

          Rumpelstiltskin peered over the wall again. Belle was once more on her feet.  _What is she doing?_  She turned on her heel and began walking back towards them, towards the Dark Castle, towards  _him_. Impossible. He shook his head emphatically, refusing to believe it.

          "She's made her choice, Rumpel.  _You_  are her choice." Jefferson was so happy, had he not been invisible, his smile would have been blinding. He turned around and slid down the wall to sit next to Rumpelstiltskin. "Now don't screw it up!"

          "Just because she's come back doesn't mean anything. She could have a dozen reasons why she didn't leave," Rumpelstiltskin insisted stubbornly, ignoring Jefferson's remark.

          "Name one," Jefferson scoffed.

          "She doesn't want to break our deal."

          "I worry about you. A woman doesn't fall to her knees in the middle of a road because she's afraid to break her word. That is a woman in love, Rumpelstiltskin. A woman in love struggling to choose between that love and love for her family," Jefferson tried to explain. "Are you certain your mother didn't drop you on your head when you were a child? Try again."

          "Maybe she doesn't want to make the journey alone."

          Jefferson snorted. "When have you ever known our darling girl to be afraid of  _anything_? Try again."

          "She doesn't want to leave her library?" Rumpelstiltskin said unconvincingly. No, that sounded stupid even to his ears.

          "Really? That's what you're going with?" Jefferson wanted to laugh so badly, but he squelched the urge. He really had no desire to be a snail.

          Instead, he asked, "How much longer before the potion wears off?"

          "Six hours."

          "Want to visit the village? We could have a good laugh scaring the townsfolk like this," he suggested.

          "No."

          "Can I?"

          Rumpelstiltskin shook his head at the hatter. He really was as mad as people believed. "Tell you what … you spend the night there and I'll drop you right in the middle of the village."

          "Deal."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/n: This was a really emotional chapter for me. My apologies for the tears. Thank you to all who left a review, a favorite, or a follow. Really hope you're enjoying this journey with me. Wow … I never realized how short this chapter was before.


	6. Chapter 6

          The sun dipped below the horizon, the last rays disappearing and casting the kitchen in shadows. The only light coming from the dying fire in the hearth. A sense of unease crept over Belle as she set her paring knife down on the worktable and set about lighting several candles, so she could continue with her work. She was only using the peaches as a distraction. Peeling, pitting, slicing, and dicing. Over and over, something to keep her hands busy. The task so monotonous, it allowed her mind free rein to dwell on her newest dilemma. It wasn’t as if she could just blurt out her love to her master the moment he walked in the door. He'd, no doubt, laugh in her face. No, she would have to tread carefully.

          Belle glanced at the open kitchen door, wishing she could close it, but the cool breeze it provided kept her in her seat. She hated when Rumpelstiltskin left her alone in the Dark Castle. It was fine during the day when the sunlight chased away all the shadows. But when darkness fell, she took comfort in his presence, assured he would be there to chase away the demons. Even demons feared the Dark One. A chill skittered up her spine, making her tighten her grip on the knife she held. Something was wrong. Her senses had always been sharp, her intuition never failing her. She couldn't ignore it now.

          She lowered the knife into her lap, hiding it in the folds of her skirt as she rose from the wooden stool she'd sat on to carry out her chore. Her eyes narrowed, searching the shadows. Gooseflesh spread over her arms beneath the fitted sleeves of her gown. She could feel someone watching her. Someone or something was in the room with her. She ground her teeth together until her jaw hurt, but she would not give in to her panic. Neither would she show fear to the interloper, forcing her features into a mask of calm.

          Rumpelstiltskin watched her, could practically feel when she took note of his presence. How had she known? He hadn't used magic, so he knew there were no traces of it clinging to his clothes, no telltale purple smoke. Did she even know it was him who watched her from the shadows?

          Those lovely jewel-bright eyes passed over him and he tensed. He glanced down to make sure the potion hadn't worn off. It wouldn't be long now before it did, but he'd been unable to resist the temptation it offered. He wanted to be able to observe her without her knowledge. So many nights had passed with him watching her unobtrusively while she read, always having to look away when she glanced up at him. He didn't want to look away. He wanted to see her, eyes wide open, unable to miss a single detail.

          Belle was his siren, her allure drawing him to her, propelling him forward by her will. Her will had become his own. Warning bells should have been clanging away in his head alerting him to this new danger, her call. The desperate need he felt to touch her couldn't be denied any longer. She froze, her entire body going stiff with shock as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her back against his body. Her every curve fit perfectly to him and he buried his face in her fragrant hair, breathing in her scent of roses and peaches and Belle. He was drowning in the pleasure of just holding her.

          Rumpelstiltskin dropped his arms from her as white-hot agony burst to life in his thigh. He howled in pain and looked down to find Belle's paring knife protruding from his leg, or where his leg would have been had it been visible. Belle froze at the kitchen door, where she had run the moment the phantom arms had released her, turning to search for him. Curses fell from his lips like rain, and he lowered himself onto the stool next to the worktable, unable to stand any longer.

          He winced as her eyes pierced him with unmistakable anger. He glanced down at himself, his form wavering as the potion wore off and restored him. "Rumpelstiltskin!" she shrieked. How could such a small woman have so much volume? The pain in his ears was now rivaling the burning agony in his leg.

          "Do you mind terribly?" he asked through clenched teeth, nodding to the knife protruding from his thigh. "You are more than welcome to scream at me at your leisure ... after you have removed this."

          She moved to his side and blanched, watching the blood seep from the wound and onto the stone floor. "I should leave you to suffer after such a prank. Why would you do such a thing?" Belle tightened her hand around the handle and jerked.

          Rumpelstiltskin howled in pain once more and glared at her. "Not a kind bone in your body, Belle."

          "Stop being such a baby, Rumpel," she chided him, reaching for a towel and pressing it down over his wound to staunch the bleeding. “You’ve crawled home in worse shape.”

          His eyes were squeezed tightly closed as she pressed the towel onto the open wound. He opened them to scowl down at her and froze, completely forgetting his wound. She was bent over his leg, mopping up his life's blood and all he could see was that damnable gown he'd given her, her breasts threatening to spill over the top of her bodice. He could feel his body tightening and tensing, the urge to haul her into his arms overwhelming.

          She removed the towel and took his hand in hers, laying it carefully over the wound. "Alright, Rumpelstiltskin. Rumpel?"

          "What?" he snapped.

"Aren't you going to heal your wound? Somehow, I don't think you would like me stitching it up," she said, her lips twitching with amusement.

          Absently, he channeled his magic into his left hand and closed the wound, leaving not so much as a scar, but his eyes never left hers. He'd grabbed her other hand with his right and was rubbing the pad of his thumb over her sensitive palm without even realizing it. He watched as the amusement left her features, her eyes darkening to the color of cobalt.

          "Stop that," she whispered softly, lowering her gaze to their hands.

          "Why?"

          "My hands are sticky from the peaches." Her teeth worried her bottom lip as she watched him raise her hand to his lips.

          He paused, her hand inches from his lips, his voice husky as he asked, "Is that the only reason?" He turned her hand palm up, his eyes never leaving her, anticipating her reaction as his tongue snaked out to taste the sweetness of her palm. She shivered from his touch. He could feel her pulse quicken in the hollow of her wrist. "Or are you afraid of what the monster will do to you?"

          Belle snatched her hand away from him and whirled angrily towards the cupboard. "You are not a monster, Rumpelstiltskin," she hissed testily, retrieving a bowl and ladling the rich beef stew into it. She wondered if he would always ruin the moment between them with his hateful words. Why couldn't he see himself as she saw him? "You are a good man," she said, setting the bowl down on the worktable in front of him and handing him a spoon.

          "I'm not a man," he mumbled, filling his mouth with stew, savoring the rich flavor as it burst over his tongue. He watched her bustle about the kitchen, continuing with her work as though he'd never intruded.

          Belle set a cup of tea before him and a small plate of the cobbler she’d saved for him. "Here, I saved this for you." She spooned a generous portion of sweet cream onto the cobbler, smiling when he pushed his bowl of stew aside in favor of the dessert. "Consider it my price for stabbing you."

          Rumpelstiltskin's eyes gleamed, a hint of avarice glowing brightly in his amber gaze. "Are we talking deals, dearie?"

          "No," she shook her head, a smile playing on her lips. "I'm not foolish enough to make another deal with you, Rumpelstiltskin." She paused, watching him carefully. "Besides, there's nothing I have you would want."

          Rumpelstiltskin set his fork down and pushed his plate aside, giving her his full attention. She'd come to finally sit beside him at the worktable, their knees almost touching as he turned to face her. Her eyes were luminous and sparkling in the muted lighting. "That, my darling girl, is debatable. Surely, there must be  _something_  you want, something you desire." He watched the heat rise in her face and smiled smugly. "A deal can always be struck, Belle. All you need do is ask."

          Her musical laughter filled the kitchen. "Oh, Rumpel. I have everything I could possibly need or want. I don't need to make a deal with you."

          Belle couldn't be that genuine. She was a woman, after all. "Everyone wants a deal with me, dearie. Why should you be any different?" He lifted her hand from the worktable and laced his fingers with hers, not even realizing what he was doing. She was drawing out his own desires, making them real. "I can give you  _anything,_ Belle. What is it you wish?"

          She was drowning in those fathomless amber eyes which so many feared to gaze upon, finding it hard to concentrate.  _You._  She could feel the word upon her tongue, waiting for it to be spoken. It was too soon. He wasn't ready to hear a confession from her just yet.  _Focus!_  She scolded herself mentally. "Before I came here, all I wished for was adventure. Now I feel as though I've had enough adventure for a lifetime. Each day with you is filled with surprises."

          "Belle, surely you can do better than that," he coaxed, surprised for the first time since he'd taken on the dark curse, he didn't care if she had anything to barter. He truly wanted to grant her request for the simple pleasure it would bring  _her._

          "How was your journey today, Rumpelstiltskin? Was it everything you'd hoped it would be?" she asked, changing the subject.

          "You're avoiding the issue. And no, it was quite disturbing," he confessed.

          "How so?"

          He regarded her slyly. "Have you ever found yourself in a situation where you knew what was going to happen, without a doubt certain only one possible outcome would transpire, only to have the exact opposite happen?"

          Belle thought for a moment, remembering the deal she'd made with him. She had agreed to come with him forever. Her future was sure to be one filled with pain and loneliness. Now she wasn't so certain. "Yes."

          Rumpelstiltskin frowned at her. "You have not."

          "Hmm. Now you presume to know my mind?"

          He raised his hand to cover his heart. "I would never, dearie."

          "I'm sorry things didn't work out the way you'd hoped," she said, her voice soft and sympathetic. He rubbed the pad of his thumb over her wrist, sending a fresh wave of gooseflesh up her arm. It was becoming more and more difficult to concentrate when she wanted nothing more than to crawl onto his lap and kiss him senseless. "And I'm not avoiding issues, Rumpel. I am avoiding your desire to make a deal … and toy with me."

          Rumpelstiltskin regarded her evenly, his eyes searching her face as he considered the endless list of desires she undoubtedly had tucked away in that sharp mind of hers. "I can  _make_  you want to deal with me, Belle," he murmured softly, his gaze focusing on her lips.

          "No. You wouldn't use magic on me to bend me to your will. You're much too honorable," she insisted, pulling her hand free of his grasp. Belle rose from the stool and stepped forward, that one step bringing her to stand between his thighs.

          His tongue darted out to wet his lips as she placed her hands on his chest, sliding them upward inside his jacket and over his shoulders. The dragonhide hit the stone floor with a soft thud. "What are you doing, Belle?" Having divested him of his jacket, her hands returned to his chest. She leaned into him, his lips inches from the creamy softness of her throat.

          "I am making you more comfortable," she whispered into the shell of his ear, drawing him slowly under her spell. "Isn't that why you wanted me as your caretaker, Rumpel? To see to your comfort?" She couldn't seem to help herself. She couldn't remain content to sit with him any longer without the need to touch him becoming unbearable. She was a maid, lacking the skill to seduce him, yet trusting in her womanly instincts, hoping it would serve her well.

          "Belle, you don't want this. You don't want me." His hands grasped her hips, crumpling the velvet of her gown. He meant to push her away, he really did. Beads of sweat popped out on his brow as he struggled with the desire to do right by her and his desire to let the beast loose inside him and carry her off to his bed. "I can give you anything your heart desires, sweetheart. Anything but that."

          Rumpelstiltskin suppressed a shiver as she pressed her lips just below his ear. "I'm not dealing with you, Rumpel. No deals. I just want to know one thing ... one tiny answer from your lips and I'll happily skip off to bed. I'll leave you to your darkness and let you dwell in your misery." Bitterness from having to compete with his curse laced her tone, but she didn't allow it to deter her. She nipped his neck with her teeth, reveling in the deep moan which issued from his throat.

          "Anything." His traitorous hands pulled her closer, sliding about her waist, one hand trailing up to delve into her hair, forcing her head back so he could see her face. Her eyes were dark with desire, her face flushed, her lips parted. The beast inside him roared, his control slipping through his fingers. He closed his eyes and pressed his mouth to the hollow of her throat.

          "Tell me you don't want me. Tell me and I'll never bother you again," she breathed, unable to steady her voice. They had been dancing around one another, Rumpelstiltskin hiding behind his darkness and indifference, just as she had hidden behind her innocence. Now that she knew what she wanted, she couldn’t allow him to shut her out any longer. She delved her hands into the soft strands of his hair, holding him to her. "Tell me."

          "I can't." He cupped her face in his hands, brushing her lips with his own. "But I will  _not_  hurt you." He pressed a kiss to the corner of her mouth. "I  _cannot_ have you, Belle. Look at me."

          Belle forced her eyes to open. She didn't want to look, didn't want to hear the words he was going to use to push her away. She only wanted to feel him, to touch him, to love him. She lifted her fingers to cover his lips, her eyes begging him not to take this away from them. "Don't push me away, Rumpel." She covered his heart with her hand. "Let me in ... please."

          "I — I release you from the bonds of our deal," he stammered, somehow finding the strength to push her away from his body.

          In all the time she'd known him, Rumpelstiltskin had never once lost control of his voice enough to stammer. And more importantly, she'd never seen him release anyone from a deal. Deals were final. Anger flared in her chest. He'd placed that mask of indifference back on his features and she knew he wouldn't give in easily. There was no mistaking the desire she'd seen in his eyes or felt in his touch. But she refused to let his darkness deter her.

          "No."

          His head jerked up in surprise. "Did you just tell me  _no_ _?"_

          She turned on her heel to return to the Great Hall and the new book she'd selected to read that evening, pausing with her hand on the door handle. "Yes, Rumpel, I did. I do hope you remember the meaning of the word. Surely, someone over the course of your lifetime has said it to you." She left him alone, his mouth gaping.

          Belle sat down on the sofa and picked up the book she'd left out on the low table. She pulled the blanket from the back of the sofa and settled it over her lap. Not even an entire paragraph had she read when her ears picked up on his soft tread returning to the hall. A mix of confusion and irritation made up his countenance as he glared down at her. Apparently, he wasn't done. She set her book aside, folded her hands in her lap and waited, meeting his gaze steadily.

          Rumpelstiltskin regarded her warily, choosing his words carefully. "Don't you miss your family? Your  _betrothed_ _?"_ he spat the last word, trying to rid himself of the bitter taste of it. "You could go back to your old life."

          "Of course, I miss my family. Not a day goes by where I don't miss my father," she sighed, her voice taking on a wistful tone. But she would have had to leave him eventually when she married. That was just the way of the world. "But as far as Gaston is concerned? No, I don't miss him."

          He moved closer and propped his hip against the arm of the sofa. "Why not, dearie? Weren't you happy with your intended?" he asked, his lip curling in disgust. He remembered only too well the handsome warrior and the possessiveness he'd shown toward Belle the day they'd struck their deal.  _Pompous popinjay!_

          "It was an arranged marriage. In truth, I never really cared for Gaston. And I don't think I ever could have come to love him. He is too superficial. I want someone who will share  _everything_ with me. Someone who will value me as something more than an ornament for his arm. I want someone who makes me ..."

          His jealousy drained away, and a small smile curved his lips. "Makes you what?"

          "Feel alive." Her tone had taken on a dreamy huskiness and it flowed over him like a silken caress. He watched her hug her book to her chest and wished it were him she was holding so tightly. She regarded him seriously. "Can I ask you something, Rumpelstiltskin?"

          He nodded.

          "When you left this morning, why did you lift the wards?" The breath hitched in her chest, not having realized how important his answer was to her. "If it wasn't for your deep liking of spiced peaches, I never would have discovered they were missing."

          He studied a speck of dust on his boot, the book she'd returned to the table, the straw in the basket next to his spinning wheel. Everywhere he could to avoid her probing gaze. "I don't know what you mean," he evaded, trying for a neutral tone.

          Belle rose to stand and moved closer to him. He closed his eyes, praying for strength. The beast inside roared for him to reach for her, to crush her to him, to take what he wanted. The one shred of humanity which remained reared its head to keep the darkness at bay. How could he protect her from himself when she was so soft, her eyes pleading to accept what she offered?

          "Why did you let me go? What are you afraid of, Rumpel?" she asked, laying her hand aside his cheek.

          He resisted the urge to lean into her hand. Instead he returned her hand to her side and moved to the hearth. "I don't want you anymore, dearie," he said scathingly. "I knew you would leave at your first opportunity. This way I thought we might be able to avoid a nasty scene."

          She fought back the tears in her eyes, tears brought on by his hasty words. She watched him carefully as he brought his hands together before him and began clicking his thumb nails together.  _Liar!_  "Hmm. Not twenty minutes ago, you wanted me very much. Changed your mind, have you?"

          He quirked an imperious brow at her. "A moment of weakness."

          Belle stopped her trek across the room, coming to stand before him. "You can lie to me all you like, Rumpelstiltskin, but you can't lie to yourself. You just can't allow any happiness into your life. You refuse to let anyone care for you."

          "Vicious lies," he stated, his lip curling into a sneer.

          "I'm not leaving you," she insisted matter-of-factly, crossing her arms over her chest stubbornly.

          He grabbed her upper arms roughly and dragged her against him, trapping her arms between them. "You will," he growled low in his throat. She met his gaze without a trace of fear in her eyes and pressed herself closer.  _Bad idea! Bad idea! Bad idea!_ He was losing the battle. She tentatively pressed her lips to the hollow of his throat in a fleeting kiss, her lips soft as butterfly wings, and raised her face to him.

          "I'm not afraid of you," she said boldly, meeting his gaze and then letting it drop to his mouth. "Rumple …" She was soon to change her mind, however, as his lips seized hers. She was innocent. She'd never experienced the hot blaze of passion he ignited within her as he ravaged her mouth. She was imprisoned in his embrace and the beast he was reputed to be was clearly in charge. A whimper escaped her as he deepened the kiss, his tongue skimming her bottom lip and then delving inside. His answering moan was music to her ears, his fierce grip pulling her closer as he sucked gently on her tongue. The answering tug in her core made her breathless, and she surrendered herself to her love.

 _RRuummpplleessttiillttsskkiinn!_ He tried to ignore it. He was used to it, the constant calling of his name. All over the realm, their cries chanted in his head. Cries of people wanting to make a deal.  _I want -, I need -,_ until he thought he'd go mad. But he couldn't ignore this call.

          He jerked his head up and away from the sweet girl in his arms, the only woman he could actually say  _wanted_ to be there, groaning as the call sounded again. "I have to go, Belle," he said urgently, holding her at arm's length to steady her.

          "What? Why?" she asked, regretting the loss of his warmth.

          "Jefferson. The hatter’s in trouble." With a  _poof_  of purple smoke, he vanished.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/n: Yep, Jefferson’s in all kinds of trouble. See you tomorrow … same Rumbelle time, same Rumbelle channel :D


	7. Chapter 7

          Rumpelstiltskin's sudden appearance in the village square sent a tangible ripple of fear through the populace. It didn't help matters that his appearance was accompanied by a strong gust of wind which swirled his cloak about and whipped his hair over his eyes. Overall, a very frightening appearance. His eyes were twin glowing orbs of amber filled with fury at being called away. His head pounded with the panicked cries of the villagers.  _The Dark One! The Dark One has come to kill us all! Run! Hide the children!_ He sent a pulse of blue magic through the village, silence reigning in its wake. Even the flames of the nearby fires ceased to crackle and burn. A good thing, too, if Jefferson's sorry state was any indication.

          "My, my, my!" he giggled. He just couldn't seem to help himself as he surveyed his friend from all sides. "The situations you find yourself in never cease to amaze me, hatter."

          The panic was slowly fading from Jefferson's eyes, to be replaced with bemusement. "Do you think we could possibly postpone your glee until you untie me and return us to the castle?" he asked. "Please," he threw in for good measure.

          "I think witch burnings are so last century," Rumpelstiltskin quipped, a fresh giggle bubbling from his lips. "You do realize you'll owe me a favor for this daring rescue, don't you?"

          "Yes, yes, deal. I know everything is about price with you. I will be indebted to you until my last breath, blah, blah, blah. Just get me out of here!" he pleaded, desperate to be free of his bindings.

          Rumpelstiltskin stood back a bit to burn the image into his brain. He'd be able to recall it in future for the sheer entertainment value for decades to come. It was just too comical, the sight of Jefferson trussed up and tied to a stake in the center of the village square, the frozen flames licking at his scorched boots and trousers. The smile faded from his lips as he noticed the hot pink burns showing through in places. Maybe it wasn't quite so funny after all. "Oh, very well," he said grudgingly. He flicked his wrist and the ropes vanished from around Jefferson. Before he could collapse to the ground, Rumpelstiltskin grabbed his arm and teleported them back to the Dark Castle.

          Belle was waiting, pacing frantically before the hearth in the Great Hall. What trouble had Jefferson gotten himself into this time? If this was some sort of trick Rumpelstiltskin was playing on her just to escape, she would serve him gruel and water three meals a day for a month. She emitted a small cry of alarm as they appeared before her and she was able to see for herself the sorry state of her friend. "God's blood! What happened to him?"

          "Frankly, dearie, I'd like to know that myself," Rumpelstiltskin murmured dryly, depositing Jefferson on top of the dining table. "Just be thankful he called when he did. Belle, where are you going?"

          "I'll be just a moment," she called over her shoulder as she rushed down the corridor to the kitchen. She collected a bowl of water, towels, and the dagger she kept on the mantle above the hearth before she returned to the Great Hall. "Lie back, Jefferson," she urged, pushing at his shoulders.

          "I've never been so happy to see you, my darling girl," he uttered weakly as he did as she instructed.

          "Yes, yes," Rumpelstiltskin said impatiently, hovering over Belle's shoulder so he could watch her tend to the hatter. "Now would you mind telling us what happened?"

          Belle was quiet as she tugged on Jefferson's left boot, jerking her hands away as he hissed in pain. "I'm sorry," she apologized, her teeth worrying her lower lip. She used the dagger to cut through the thick leather at his knee, opening it enough so it wouldn't drag painfully over the burns. She moved to the right boot and repeated her actions, satisfied when he didn't jerk away from her hands.

          "Belle's not the gentlest of nurses, hatter. My apologies."

          Belle cast him a quelling glance over her shoulder. "Just because you're a big baby when it comes to pain and want to swoon at the sight of your own blood, doesn't mean I'm not gentle, Rumpel."

          Jefferson lifted his head from the table and stabbed Rumpelstiltskin with a startled glance.  _Rumpel?_  he mouthed silently. Rumpelstiltskin rolled his eyes in bemusement. He glared at the back of Belle's head. Did she really need to air his dirty laundry in front of Jefferson? He was certain he would never hear the end of this now.

          "How did this happen?" she asked, turning to Rumpelstiltskin. "Will you heal him ... please?" Her voice was sweet as she turned to her master and placed her hand hesitantly on his chest, smiling up at him.

          He stared down at her, his amber eyes glittering with warmth at her innocent touch. He no longer had any doubt what she felt for Jefferson was no more than friendship. He sighed in exasperation. "Very well." His hand glowed with a faint purple light as he passed it over Jefferson's legs, healing the wounds until they were healthy and whole once more. Belle leaned up on her toes and kissed his cheek before turning back to Jefferson who was looking at him with something akin to amazement. He knew Jefferson wasn't the only one who would be making explanations tonight.

          Belle helped Jefferson sit up before she tossed a towel in the basin of water, wringing it out and bringing it to his face. "Explain please," she softly demanded as she began to clean the soot away from his face.

          "Um ... Well, the uh ... the potion wore off," he began hesitantly, unsure how much he should reveal in front of Belle. Rumpelstiltskin waved a hand impatiently, silently telling him to get on with it. "People tend to get a bit excited over innocent fun, is all."

          Belle's eyes narrowed on him. "And just what kind of  _innocent_  fun were you engaging in when the potion wore off. Jefferson, if you were frightening someone out of their wits —"

          "Calm down, love," the hatter soothed. Rumpelstiltskin took exception to the endearment, his lip curling over his teeth in a snarl. Next, he would be growling at him. "I was simply enjoying ... a, uh ... bit of fun with a particular lady friend of mine."

          Heat stole up Belle's neck to settle hotly in her face. "And I suppose her husband didn't approve? Hmm?"

          "Well, it's not like I forced myself on Giselle. She was more than willing. But Claude walked in just as the potion wore off and ... he of course raised an alarm which sent everyone into a frenzy. It all got out of control, and the entire village was bandying words about like witch, dark magic, cursed and such. It just got completely out of hand." Jefferson glared at Rumpelstiltskin who was leaning his arm against the mantle, his face buried in it and his shoulders shaking in silent laughter.

          Belle whirled about and shot Rumpelstiltskin a disapproving glare. "And I suppose there was a price to be paid for your aid?"

          "Of course, dearie. I don't do this sort of thing for free, you know," he said dryly, straightening to return her glare, their eyes locked in a silent battle of wills. "It's not the first favor he owes me and I'm pretty sure it won't be his last."

          "You should be ashamed of yourself, Rumpelstiltskin," she hissed angrily, advancing on him. "Jefferson is your friend and a guest in your home." She poked him in the chest with her finger, her eyes flashing blue daggers at him. "You should be showing him hospitality and kindness and instead you offer him a deal." Her slender finger poked him again.

          His lips twitched with amusement. Had anyone else dared to poke him in the chest, they would be inching along the floor with a snail shell on their back. But not his Belle. He was enjoying her too much as he watched her eyes flash with righteous anger. "Technically, he wasn't in my home at the time, so I was free of the hospitality issue. Technically, he is my guest ... my  _unwanted_  guest. Therefore —"

          Belle poked him again, her breath catching in her throat as he captured her hand and yanked her forward. She quickly recovered herself enough to reprimand him, although a little breathlessly.

          "Then  _technically_  the two of you can make your own tea and enjoy each other's company for the remainder of the evening. I've had enough of your pranks and your deals for one day and your stubborn disregard for anyone’s feelings but your own. Goodnight!" she huffed and jerked her hand from his grasp, striding quickly to the corridor which would take her downstairs to her room.

          Rumpelstiltskin's face fell in disappointment. Jefferson took him in and burst out laughing, which in turn had the imp turning the full heat of his gaze on him. "What?" Jefferson asked innocently, his laughter dying in his throat. "I have to say; the favor I owe you was well worth it just to witness that little scene."

          He ignored Jefferson and moved to sit at the spinning wheel, taking comfort in the wheel's smooth surface gliding beneath his palm. The Great Hall seemed to darken and shift in tone with the loss of Belle's presence, as if she'd taken the light and warmth with her. He might as well get used to it, he thought irritably. Soon, she would be back with her family and there would be no light, no warmth, no comfort.

          "You didn't tell her, did you?" Jefferson asked, moving to settle himself on the sofa.

          "Tell her what?" He knew very well what Jefferson was referring to. But he refused to dwell on his feelings for Belle, refused to admit the truth staring him in the face. If he did, it would leave him bare and bleeding and he would never be able to let her go. He wouldn't allow himself to hope for something which could never be. He couldn't ask her to dwell in the darkness with him. Eventually, it would chip away at her spirit and leave her raw and bleeding as well. He couldn't do that to her.

          "You didn't tell her you love her."

          "I am  _not_  in love with my maid," Rumpelstiltskin snapped sourly. Maybe if he said it often enough, he would begin to believe it.

          Jefferson snorted in disbelief. "What part of 'don't screw it up' was unclear to you? You love her; Belle loves you. What exactly is the problem, Rum?"

          Rumpelstiltskin glanced up, his eyes glittering dangerously. "Leave it alone, hatter."

          "But —"

          "Snails, Jefferson."

          Jefferson threw his hands up in exasperation, thoroughly exasperated with his friend as he rose from the sofa, intent on climbing into a hot bath. He was nearly to the door when he whirled and faced the imp. "You know, Rum, you're responsible for your own happiness. You can't fight fate. You could have a life with Belle if you would just take a chance."

          The wheel stopped beneath his hand. "I don't deserve her."

          Jefferson sighed sadly, aching for his friends. "Courage, Rum. Don't spend the rest of your very long life wondering  _what if_." With that he turned to go upstairs, leaving Rumpelstiltskin deep in thought. The next move was his.

 

*.*.*

 

          Belle kicked the quilt off her legs and sighed in frustration. The weather was warming up. Why the hell did it feel like a blazing inferno down in the dungeon? If there should be one place in the Dark Castle insusceptible to holding the heat of the day, it should be the dungeons. She was aggravated with Jefferson for his foolishness in the village, fuming mad at Rumpelstiltskin for his blatant disregard to see what was directly in front of his face, and she was irritated she couldn't get comfortable in her own bed no matter how many pillows she had.

          Grabbing up her cloak, lying atop the small trunk which held her clothes, she tossed it on over her modest shift and slipped her feet into the boots Rumpelstiltskin had given her.  _We can't have your toes falling off from frostbite, dearie._ She had to get out of the castle. She was in desperate need for a mind-numbing activity.

          Maybe she could go for a swim in the small lake which sat at the very rear of Rumpelstiltskin's property. Jefferson had mentioned it on one of his many visits, but it had never been warm enough for her to take advantage of the clear water. And even though it was early spring, she would find even a frigid temperature comfortable at this point.

          The more she thought about it, the more determined she was to do it. Now if she could do it without being caught, all the better for her. She stopped briefly to retrieve her dagger which she'd used on Jefferson earlier. After all, she might be reckless in her need to leave the castle for a while, but she was far from stupid.

          She avoided the Great Hall, knowing Rumpelstiltskin would be at his wheel. He was the last person she wanted to see right now. She tiptoed up the stairs, into the corridor and on into the kitchen, keeping to the shadows. She flung open the kitchen door and stepped out into the night, running swiftly across the dew-covered grass in the direction of the lake, praying it could help to cool the anger clawing at her chest.

 

*.*.*

 

          Rumpelstiltskin tossed the thread aside and rose from his perch before the wheel, scrubbing his face with his hands and raking frustrated fingers through his mop of wild hair.  _Let me in, Rumpel._  God's toenails! He couldn't stop thinking about her. He could still feel her pressed to his chest. He could still taste her, smell her. She was a siren in his mind, her allure calling to him over and over.  _Let me in._  That he could do it; to lose himself in her would be more bliss than he could bear.

          Maybe it was Belle who had been bewitched. No, she knew to stay away from his potion bottles. This was because of that damn ladder. A ladder he'd taken personal pleasure in turning into kindling, he thought with a satisfied smirk. Well, he couldn't very well have let her crash to the floor. Broken bones, concussion and all that. Something had been awakened in her. It had been awake in Rumpelstiltskin for months, but who wouldn't lust after such a lovely girl of both face and form.

          But Belle had the purest heart he'd ever glimpsed, and it was what drew him. It was simply inconceivable she would want him, the beast of the Dark Castle. The same qualities he admired in her were causing him no end of grief. Because once the darling girl wanted something, she went through a unique process. Step one, discovering what she desired. Step two, arguing with herself if it was worth it. Step three, chasing after said desire with all the grace of a charging Rhino. In two days, his life had gone from peacefully coexisting with her to wanting her with a raging lust. It had never been this bad. It was because her feelings for him had been discovered and confirmed and now she wanted to realize them.  _Holy hell!_

          He kicked the stool, sending it flying into the corner. It rolled to a sad stop, one of the legs falling off and beginning to roll towards him. He snorted. He moved to the dining table and poured himself a cup of tea. Lifting it to his lips he growled. Cold tea was not appealing this evening. Finally, giving up, he strode to the door and mounted the stairs, making the trek up to his bedroom. He could give Belle a room closer to his. He'd be able to check in on her after she'd fallen asleep and ...  _Ack!_  He was doing it again.

          Rumpelstiltskin kicked the door open to his bedroom. He just wanted to sink into the soft down mattress on his bed and forget his darling Belle had gone to bed in high temper ... at him. He didn't want to dwell anymore on how much he wished she was lying beside him. He strode into the bathing room connected to his bedroom and froze.

          "Jefferson! What are you doing in my damn tub?!" he bellowed, glaring down at the hatter relaxing in the marble monstrosity. His one piece of solitude in the whole place. Twelve foot by twelve foot of white marble sunken into the stone floor. It had a bench which ran along one side. He could practically swim in it. He'd enchanted it to fill and empty instantly, all one had to do was ask. It was one of his more brilliant magic tricks, he thought smugly. Belle had never entered these rooms which were restricted to his use and he found himself wondering how she would enjoy a bath in here. He would even enchant it to fill with bubbles ... for her. He groaned and looked down at Jefferson who was grinning sheepishly up at him.

          "I didn't want to have to bother Belle with heating water for the tub downstairs. She looked rather put out with us before she stalked off to bed in a huff. Didn't think you'd mind."

          "You thought wrong." Rumpelstiltskin turned on his heel, waving his hand and turning the steaming water frigid. A small satisfied smile tugged at his lips as he heard Jefferson howl and jump from the tub, if the splashing was any indication.

          He moved into the alcove which housed a window overlooking the east side of the grounds, the moonlight bright on the clear night. He watched Jefferson emerge from the bathing chamber belting his thick black robe about him.

          Jefferson glanced down at himself. "Another minute I could've gotten frostbite ... there! I wouldn't have been able to have another child," he said morosely. Rumpelstiltskin giggled and turned back to the window, continuing his perusal of the grounds. He stiffened and beckoned Jefferson closer.

          "Where do you think she's running off to in the middle of the night?" he asked, his voice dangerously low.

          "Maybe she couldn't sleep," Jefferson shrugged evasively. “She _was_ rather put out with us earlier.”

          "That doesn't tell me where she's going." He waved his hand, indicating the hatter should tell Rumpelstiltskin what he knew.

          "I may have told her about the lake. Maybe she's going for a swim," he suggested, wincing at the black look overtaking the sorcerer's features.

          "Do you realize how dangerous it is for her to be wandering off  _alone_  in the middle of the night? I have more enemies than I can count, hatter. Do you think they would spare my Belle if they came upon her here? Of all the stupid —" he raved. He waved his hand and his clothes changed color. He was completely swathed in black down to the cloak fastened about his shoulders. He waved his hand again and looked down at Jefferson where he slithered across the floor in a silvery gooey trail. "If she comes to no harm, I promise not to squish you. If she's hurt ... " He left it at that as purple smoke enveloped him and he  _poofed_  into nothingness, praying Belle would be safe.  _Idiot hatter!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/n: Poor, Jefferson. It can’t be easy being besties with the Dark One. LOL!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I know you guys are probably hating me right now. Is Belle alright? Is Jefferson going to remain a snail? Is Rumpel going to forget about him and accidentally squash him? So many questions! Fear not, my beloved readers! All these questions and more will be answered in this chapter. Many surprises in store as well. I thank you so much for all the reviews, favs and follows. You have no idea how much it means to me. Love to you all. Hope you enjoy! Happy Thanksgiving!!
> 
> Warning: There’s a little dub/con in this chapter, as well.

          Belle dipped her foot into the water at the lake's edge and shivered.  _Blessed snails!_  She smirked. Snails? She must've heard the word fall one too many times from Rumpelstiltskin's lips of late.  _I am not thinking of his lips. I am not thinking of what those lips do to me. I am not, not, not. Ok, I am._  Suddenly the water didn't feel quite so cold to her. She unhooked her cloak from about her shoulders and tossed it behind her onto the sandy bank, leaving her standing there under the moonlight in her thin shift. She waded knee deep into the frigid water and shivered as gooseflesh spread along her skin. Maybe it would be better just to dive in and get it over with, she thought with a grimace. At least the water was helping to take her mind off her stubborn master.

          She dove into the water, completely submerging herself. She stayed down for an entire two minutes before her lungs forced her up for air, reveling in the icy water. She felt the stiffness leave her limbs and bring about a sense of peace she hadn't felt in so long. She flipped onto her back and floated weightlessly, drifting on the water, content to let it soothe her. She thought of home where she'd been able to swim at her leisure with her friends. How could she have forgotten? She realized she had missed it.

          Belle let her body drift down until she could tread water, a sense of unease creeping up her spine, its icy tendrils spreading to her nerve endings and putting her on alert. Someone was watching her. She made herself relax outwardly, even though her insides were screaming danger. She moved nothing but her eyes, trying to search through the darkness and find those eyes. Why hadn't she asked Jefferson to come with her? To act as her guard?  _Suck it up, you goose! It's not as if you can't protect yourself._  She flipped over onto her back once more and propelled herself closer to the shore and the dagger hidden in the folds of her abandoned cloak, her eyes and ears open to detect the slightest sound or movement.

 

*.*.*

 

          Rumpelstiltskin landed lightly on the branch of the old oak which skirted the Dark Castle's property line, praying his girl couldn't detect the aura of magic which surrounded him before dissipating. He had a feeling she would strongly object to his intrusion into her solitude. Especially as scantily dressed as she was in nothing but the shift she usually wore beneath her gowns, her legs exposed to him below the knee.

          How had he never before noticed how dainty her ankles were? His eyes narrowed on her as he watched the water lap greedily at her waist, wishing it were his own hands gripping her so tightly. He groaned as he felt his leather pants tighten painfully over his groin. Closing his eyes briefly, he stretched out with his heightened senses, searching the area for anything which might alert him to danger, relieved when he found nothing which would harm her. There were three life forces safely tucked behind the wards, and hers stood out like a beacon brighter than a thousand suns.

          He shifted and stretched out along the branch, leaning casually back against the trunk of the oak, much more comfortable now to enjoy the show she was putting on for him. It occurred to him his lovely maid was much more graceful in the water than she was on land. Again, his mind wandered to the thoughts he'd had earlier of her lounging in his tub, wondering if she would enjoy it, musing if she would ask him to join her.

          He shook his head, banishing the thought. He leaned forward ever so carefully. Apparently, she’d had enough of the cold water and was making her way to shore. His eyes never left her as she emerged from the water, the thin material of her shift clinging to her body and turning it transparent.  _Gods in heaven, she's glorious! Like a sea nymph._  He leaned forward again, moving his hand forward to brace himself, yearning for a closer look.

          His hand grasped empty air where the tree branch should have been, and he felt himself falling. He landed with a loud  _oomph!_ His cloak was tangled about his head and the wind had been knocked from his lungs. He could only lay there gasping for breath on the cold ground, wondering how he could have let himself end up in such a situation. He was the all- powerful Dark One and just seconds away from being discovered by the object of his desire. She wasn't going to be happy. Not happy at all, if the dagger pressing against his swollen member was any indication.

          It was a stroke of luck he'd fallen from the tree, Belle thought as she grabbed the dagger and ran to the dazed interloper. His incapacitation would give her the upper hand. She pressed the tip of the dagger against his groin, knowing no man would risk moving and having their most valuable appendage severed from his body. She sat back on her haunches, her grip firm on her beloved dagger, and watched him. How had he gotten so tangled in his cloak from the fall, she wondered.

          "Who are you and why are you on my master's lands?" she questioned. Her answer was a sharp hiss as she pressed the dagger more firmly against her prisoner. "Answer me! Have you come to harm him? I assure you, I won't allow it."

          The moonlight couldn't penetrate the shadows looming under the oak. She was seriously considering rendering the man a eunuch when she caught a familiar scent on the breeze. Straw and sandalwood and . . . that wonderful musky scent which belonged solely to Rumpelstiltskin. She forgot how to breathe as heat stole throughout her limbs. Without releasing her hand on the dagger, she reached up and pulled the folds of his cloak from over his face. His scent came to her stronger and she had to bite her lip to stop the low moan rising in her throat. His lovely amber eyes glowed up at her through the darkness.

          "Would you mind terribly, dearie? I have no wish to be castrated because of shaky hands," he said dryly.

          Belle tossed the dagger away from her and relaxed into his chest, pressing her face into his neck and breathing him in as she straddled his hips. Her gasp was loud on the still night as he grasped her hips and rolled over with her, settling firmly between her legs and pressing himself to her core. "Why are you out here, Belle?" he asked, burying his face in her neck, his teeth grazing the tender flesh beneath her ear. "Don't you know how dangerous it would be if someone came upon you out here? Would you like me to show you?"

 `"I - I'm not afraid of you. You would never hurt me," she gasped breathlessly as he rocked against her, sending waves of pleasure spiraling through her. Her back arched as his hand moved up her ribs to palm her breast, rolling the nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

          "Of course, you're not, my brave little vixen. But what if it had been someone else, an enemy of mine. Or more than one. Do you think you would've come away unscathed?" He used his nails to rip the fabric of her shift open, rending it to her waist so she would be exposed to his gaze. She might not be able to see him in the dim light, but with his heightened vision he could definitely see her.

          The beast howled within, a combination of darkness, power and lust coursing rapidly through his body. He ground his hips against her hard as he took her nipple into his mouth, laving it with his tongue before scraping it with his teeth. He lifted his head to watch her thrash beneath him, reveling in her nails digging into his shoulders. "Would you want someone to defile you as I'm doing right now, Belle?"

          "N-No," she bit out, lifting her leg to wrap about his waist, drawing him closer. "Only you. Only  _you."_

          She cried out as he skimmed the inside of her thigh with his nails, pushing her shift up to her waist. He shifted slightly to the side and delved his finger into her, groaning deeply as he felt her clench him with her inner walls. He had to bite back a primal cry of his own as he slid in and out of her, coated in the evidence of her desire. His voice was ragged with need as he asked, "What about this, my siren? Would you let someone else take such liberty?" He inserted another finger and moved them in a steady rhythm, carefully controlled so as not to breach her maidenhead, his thumb pressing down against her clit.

          Gods, he didn't want to think of what could have occurred if someone else had happened upon her. His precious girl at the mercy of some fiend. She was  _his_ , he growled inwardly.

          "Rumpel, please," she cried, "ma-make it stop." She thrust up her hips to meet his hand, delirious with the sensations rolling over her.

          He sucked her bottom lip into his mouth and delved in with his tongue, relishing the sweet taste of her, his hand never ceasing to pleasure her. "Look at me, dearest," he rasped against her mouth before sliding his tongue along her lower lip. "Open your eyes, Belle." He pressed down harder on her clit and swirled his thumb in lazy circles. "I want you to look at me as you come and know it's the monster who's pleasing you." If he were to lose her, she would take this lesson with her, and he'd have her promise to be more careful in future.

          She shattered apart, forcing her eyes open to look up at him as wave after wave of pleasure spread through her limbs, leaving her a trembling mass of nerves in his arms. "N-Not a monster. You're _not_ a monster. I couldn't  _love_  a monster."

          He jerked away from her as though she'd burned him. He left her there quivering in the throes of her climax and went to retrieve her cloak. No, this wasn't happening. He'd meant to frighten her, to make her see she could never love him, that she was deluding herself. He couldn't let her into his heart, he couldn't let her into the darkness that was his soul. He tossed her cloak to her, stubbornly keeping his back to her as he tried to get his ragged breathing and rapid heartbeat back under his firm control.

          Belle wrapped her cloak around herself and rose shakily to her feet, her legs trembling. She laid a tentative hand on his shoulder. "Rumpel, are you angry with me?" she asked, her voice small, wondering if she'd broken something between them. "I'm sorry I came out here by myself. I'm sorry I upset you."

          He turned to her and swung her up into his arms bridal style and began walking back to the castle. It would have been an easy thing for him to teleport them back to the Great Hall, but why deny himself the pleasure of having her pressed to his chest for the short walk. She wrapped her arms around his neck and laid her head against his shoulder, snuggling deeper into his embrace. "Did I hurt you?" he asked, ignoring her previous questions.

          "No. You would never hurt me."  _Physically, at least_ , she added silently to herself. She had no doubt in her mind the emotional heartbreak would be coming soon. She looked up into his face, reading the different emotions playing across his features. Already she could feel him pulling away from her, causing her grip to tighten on him.

          “Rumpel, please talk to me,” she pleaded, brushing her lips against his clenched jaw. “Let me in.”

          He kept his eyes on the path, refusing to meet her gaze, knowing if he did it would break him.  “There’s nothing to say, but I can assure you there will be no further sojourns across the grounds in the dead of night.”

          His grip never loosened on her as he mounted the steps into the rose garden and continued along the path leading back into the kitchen. She became alarmed as he ignored the corridor which led downstairs to her room, continuing into the Great Hall and into the foyer before mounting the stairs which led to his room. "Rumpel, where are you taking me?" she asked, nervousness slipping into her voice.

          "You've broken my trust, dearie. I have no choice but to keep you above stairs behind locked doors until you can earn it back."

          "L-Locked … locked doors?"

          He finally had enough control of himself to look down into her wide frightened eyes. "Don't look at me like that, Belle. I can't have you running off in the middle of the night. Did you learn nothing from your _lesson?”_

          She arched a dubious brow at him. “Oh, yes, it was illuminating. I learned you want me every bit as much as I want you … despite your stubborn refusal to admit it,” she bit out. Her fear was slowly being pushed aside in face of her rising anger.

          “Enough!”

          “Why?!”

          He turned down the corridor where his bedchamber sat at the end, passing Jefferson's room on the right and opened the door to the left. He deposited her on the large four poster bed with the lovely pink coverlet with a rose design embroidered along the edge. He'd thought of her in this room often of late. It would suit her, for now. "You can have this room. No more dungeon." With a wave of his hand, her trunk appeared against the wall under the wide window.

          "You didn't answer my question."

          "Nor will I. Just be content with your new quarters." He dropped a light kiss on her brow and stepped away from her. "I won't intrude on you here, Belle. You don't need to fear I will."

          "But —" she stammered, reaching for his hand only to have him jerk it from her grasp.

"Goodnight, Belle." He left her, locking the door behind him.

          Belle ran to the door, throwing herself against it, pounding her fists against the smooth wood. "Rumpel, come back. Don't leave me in here," she cried. She didn't want to be in this unfamiliar room. The blazing fire in the hearth did little to warm her up to the room. She wanted him to come back, to offer the comfort of his embrace. "Come back. Rumpelstiltskin!" She slid to the floor and laid her cheek against the cool wood, listening for footsteps which never came.

 

*.*.*

 

          Rumpelstiltskin flung open the door to his bedchamber and stopped abruptly, his foot paused in mi-dair. He glanced at the floor quickly before setting his foot down, searching for the silvery slime trail which would lead him to Jefferson. The trail led him to the edge of his immense four-poster which dominated the chamber.

          A snap of his fingers and the hatter was returned to his former glory. All six foot of irritating smugness, always sticking his nose where it didn't belong. His heart clenched painfully in his chest. He could still hear Belle calling for him and pounding on her door. It was taking every ounce of his strength not to go to her, not to wrap her in his embrace and bury himself in her softness.

          Jefferson regarded him silently, his brows dipping into a concerned frown. "Is she alright?" he asked, his head turning in the direction of the noise Belle was making. "What's she doing up here?"

          "She's fine," Rumpelstiltskin said quietly with a weary sigh. "I locked her up in the next room for her own protection. I can't have her wandering the property in the dead of night."

          Jefferson laid a comforting hand on his shoulder. "You don't look well. You look a little greener than usual."

          Rumpelstiltskin opened his mouth to say something and then slammed it shut. Jefferson did not need to know details of what was going on between him and Belle, no matter that his intentions were well-meaning. "I just need to be alone, hatter."

          "Do you want to talk about it?"

          "Do I look as though I want to talk about it?" he snapped in exasperation.

          "Sometimes talking helps," Jefferson offered with a bright smile.

          "Hatter, did you enjoy your time as a snail?"

          Jefferson put both his hands up in surrender and moved to the door. He turned back to look at his friend, his hand on the door handle. "Just don't do something you're going to regret. You'd never be able to live with yourself if you did something to hurt her. Considering you're immortal, that would be a long time to live with your remorse. Whether you want to admit it or not, Rumpel, I  _am_ your friend as well as Belle's. I don't want to see you hurt. Either of you."

          Rumpelstiltskin watched the hatter leave, closing the door softly behind him. He knew Jefferson was right, knew he was only trying to help, but he couldn't help rid him of his guilt. He snapped his fingers and picked up the bottle of the finest goblin-made fire whiskey which appeared on the low table next to the bed. He shouldn't have allowed himself to put his hands on Belle. She was so innocent and had been so wrapped up in what he was making her feel, she hadn't realized the danger she'd been in. He'd been so close to losing control. He had felt the beast within him slowing escaping its tether.

          What if he had hurt her? He leaned back against the pillows and took a long swallow of the amber liquid, knowing he wouldn't be able to sleep that night. He was going to have to take steps to protect her, and she was going to be furious with him. But he knew he no longer had a choice.


	9. Chapter 9

          Belle's eyes fluttered open as bright light fell across her face, shining through the open window as it was. She blinked, disoriented and wondering what tricks her wily master was up to now and why there was a window in her cell. Her late-night excursion crashed into her almost as hard as when she'd opened a door Rumpelstiltskin had told her not to and everything had come crashing down upon her. She wondered briefly if he still laughed about that little episode.

          She pushed away that wayward thought and took time to dwell on the pleasure she'd found in his arms. Heat stole up her neck to settle in her cheeks, although it was nothing compared to the heat which settled between her legs. She wasn't a complete innocent. She knew the mechanics of what occurred between a man and woman. But no one had dared to tell her it would be so enjoyable. She stretched luxuriously and burrowed deeper into the pillow in contentment. It had been so long since she'd slept in a bed this soft.

          "You might as well rouse yourself, my darling girl. Lord Sourpuss is expecting us for tea," Jefferson said from the open doorway. "I was sent to fetch you."

          She noticed he looked decidedly uncomfortable.

          Belle sat up with a deep frown drawing her perfect mouth down. It worsened when she noticed the pink gown lying across the foot of the bed. There were also matching slippers and combs for her hair. But what truly disturbed her was the small black velvet box resting next to the slippers. Her fingers shook as she lifted the lid.

          Jefferson casually sauntered over to the bed to peer into the box, his curiosity getting the better of him. He whistled softly as he took in the opal pendant nestled onto a bed of black velvet. "Seems Rumpel's feeling a bit guilty this morning. Question is, my dear, what does he have to feel guilty about?"

          Her eyes flashed angrily, not at Jefferson, but at the stubborn imp who was no doubt drowning in guilt several floors below them. "Out!"

          "What did I do?" Jefferson asked in alarm.

          "Well, I can't very well dress with you watching, now can I?" she asked, shooing him out the door.

          When Jefferson was behind the closed door leading into the corridor, she moved to the bed and whipped her nightgown over her head, tossing it onto the floor in her haste. She lifted the pink gown over her head and pulled it down to settle over her body. She had to admire Rumpelstiltskin's taste in clothes. He always knew just what would look right on her. The bodice was pink silk with long fitted sleeves and an empire waist. But the skirt was a work of art. It was long and gauzy and studded with pink gems. It looked like pink stars glittering up at her. Too bad she was too furious to stop and admire it.

          She whipped the cover off the mirror in her room and pinned her hair up before slipping her feet into the slippers. She paused at the doorway, her hand on the door handle and glanced back at the mirror. She moved back to her dressing table and tossed the cover back over the mirror. She didn't want to incur his wrath over an uncovered mirror. She was sure he was to be plenty wrathful enough when she was done with him. She snatched up the black velvet box and made her way down to the Great Hall.

          The double doors opened automatically for her as she neared them, which was a good thing since her steps never slowed. Jefferson and Rumpelstiltskin were already seated at the dining table sipping tea. Jefferson's brows shot into his hairline as she paused briefly to slam the velvet box onto the table near Rumpelstiltskin's elbow before she made her way to the end of the long table to nurse her fury and prepare herself a cup of the steaming brew.

          Belle watched Rumpelstiltskin rise slowly from his chair and approach her warily. "I take it you didn't like the pendant," he said, his amber eyes glowing as he took in her appearance.

          She shot a pleading glance at Jefferson who nodded discreetly and left them alone to stand near the window and well out of earshot. Still she kept her voice low. "Feeling guilty about what we did last night? Or did you want to treat me as your whore and this is my payment?" she asked, her eyes flashing blue daggers at him. “I don’t see why you wish to pay me when you received so little from the experience.”

          His eyes widened briefly before narrowing. "Well, I am a monster, why not act like one?"

          Belle's hands balled into fists, itching to slap the smirk off his face. What the hell, she thought, clearly at the end of her patience. She slapped him with all the strength she could muster, leaving a bright red hand print to shine through the green and gold tint of his skin. She pulled the combs from her hair and tossed them on the table, but he didn't move. The only evidence of his upset was the sharp ticking of the muscle in his jaw. She was growing uncomfortable under his angry gaze, but she refused to back down or break contact with his eyes. Her hand moved to the bodice of her gown, ready to pull it over her head.

          "Belle!" he barked, his voice ragged with emotion. He glanced over his shoulder at their friend. "Jefferson, leave us." He knew the hatter would make a hasty retreat as he turned back to Belle.

          She waited until the doors had closed behind Jefferson before she spoke. "I never want to hear those words pass your lips again, Rumpelstiltskin. You are a man. Most of the time you are a _good_ man. You just keep making bad choices. If I can see it, why can't you?"

          He bowed before her. "My apologies. It was not my intent to offend." He motioned for her to turn.

          "Why?" she asked warily. He gathered her hair in his hands and twisted it up at her crown, securing it with the combs once more. His hands trailed to the curve of her neck, unable to resist touching her, however innocently.

          "I just thought you would want to look nice for our trip."

          "What trip?" she asked, searching his face for any hint of deception. He was prone to it, after all.

          It was taking every ounce of his control to keep his features blank. "I need to return an item I have in my possession and I thought you might like to accompany me. Would you?"

          Oh, how she wanted to believe him. It would be so lovely to spend time with him away from the Dark Castle. An impending sense of doom settled over her, making her stomach roil with anxiety. "You've never asked me to go  _anywhere_ with you before. Why now?"

          "I think it would be good for you." He was forcing himself to remain calm, to put on a brave face for her. If she knew where exactly he wanted to take her, she'd probably smash the entire tea service over his head. His insides felt like they were being boiled alive.

          A hesitant suspicious smile played upon her lips. "Very well, Rumpel, but I'm not wearing the pendant."

          "Why not?" he asked, drawing her into the circle of his arms.

          "Because you gave it for the wrong reasons. Remember that next time you wish to give me a gift."

          "Are you ready?" he asked, pressing his face into the curve of her neck and breathing her in. He drew in a ragged breath. He would never be able to smell roses or peaches again without thinking of her …  _his_  Belle.

          "What? Now?" she asked in surprise.

          He nodded. "Just put your arms around my neck and we shall be off."

          Belle's stomach churned, alarm bells ringing in her ears. He was being too nice. His usual morning surliness was missing. He was actually wanting her to touch him. "Rumpel —" Too late, they were already being enveloped by his tell-tale purple smoke. She could feel the world drop away from her feet, almost as if she were caught in a swirling vortex. Too soon it was over, and she could feel the cool stones beneath her feet. Stones?

          He released her from his embrace, but held onto her hand to make certain she was steady on her feet. "Open your eyes, sweetheart, we're here."

          Belle squeezed them tightly shut. "I don't want to, Rumpel. I'm frightened." Tears coursed down her face. Everything felt wrong. She didn't want to see. "Please … don't make me look." Her usually strong voice sounded frail to her ears. What had he done?

          Voices burst into life around her, confirming her suspicions. Every voice except the one she wanted to hear. She tightened her grip on Rumpelstiltskin's hand, terrified he was going to let her go. Finally, she opened her tear-bright eyes and looked up at him. "Why? Why have you done this?"

          He laid his hand against her cheek, catching a tear on his thumb. His amber eyes glowed with the love he felt for her. He brought her hand to his lips and brushed her knuckles with his lips. "Goodbye,  _my_  Belle."

          "Rumpel, no —" Her legs gave out from under her as he disappeared in a fresh wave of purple smoke. She didn't know how long she sat there on the stone floor in her father's war room, sobbing hysterically. She felt Maurice wrap his arms around her. She heard his voice as he asked his questions, but it was as if she were in a dream ... no, a nightmare. A nightmare of epic proportions. He'd left her.  _Left her! Gone!_

          "Belle, Belle, what happened, my girl?" he asked, holding her gently. "How did this happen?"

           She accepted the handkerchief from her father and dried her tears, squaring her shoulders determinedly. "He doesn't want me anymore, Papa." She stiffened as she heard a familiar voice behind her.

          "You should be thanking the gods he let you go," Gaston sneered, unmindful of her tears, her pain and the great gaping hole in her heart. "Don't worry, Belle. I'm still here."

          A visible shudder wracked her petite frame at those softly uttered words from her former fiancée. "How lucky for me, Gaston," she sneered sarcastically.

          But it was his next words which sent ice spiraling through her veins. "And as soon as it's proven you're still a maiden, we can be married immediately."

 

*.*.*

 

          Jefferson closed the book he'd been holding and set it down on the low table as Rumpelstiltskin  _poofed_  into the Great Hall and collapsed to his knees onto the stone floor, tears coursing down his face. He'd never, in all the time he'd known the Dark One, seen him in such pain.

          "Rum," he said, his tone cautious as he took a tentative step towards his friend. He halted abruptly as Rumpelstiltskin lifted his tortured eyes, revealing the raw pain clearly ripping his soul apart. "Where's Belle?"

          Rumpelstiltskin dragged himself to his feet and sat down on the sofa. "I brought her home. Home to her family, where she belongs. She doesn't belong here in the darkness with me, Jefferson."

          "Well, just shit!"

          "Where are you going?" Rumpelstiltskin asked. He dropped his head into his hands in despair.

          "Home!" Jefferson called over his shoulder, walking out of the Great Hall and down the front steps of the castle. He couldn't very well tell his friend he was going to Avonlea. He hadn't enjoyed his time as a snail and had no desire to return to that state. Rumpelstiltskin would surely turn him into one again if he knew where he was headed. Only this time he would be a sticky gooey mess beneath the Dark One's boot. He stopped near the gate as the sound of glass and wood shattering and splintering reached his ears. But that was nothing compared to the inhuman howls of anguish coming from his friend. Jefferson began walking down the road leading away from the Dark Castle. He didn't have any time to lose.

 

*.*.*

 

          Three days. Three miserable days and three failed escape attempts. She wasn't even going to dwell on the examination she'd had to endure so those buffoons could be assured her maidenhead was still intact. A shudder passed through her as she couldn’t help but remember it. Her father was a complete ass! He refused to listen to her pleas.

_"I'm going home, Papa," she insisted._

_"You are home, my girl."_

_"No, Papa, this is not my home any longer. I'm going home to the Dark Castle, to Rumpelstiltskin."_

_First, he'd looked at her with horror. "He's bewitched you."_

_"I love him!"_

_Then he'd looked at her with disgust. "You're under a spell."_

          She hadn't been allowed to utter another word as she'd been dragged off to her room for a physical examination by the clerics. She was beginning to feel sick as she thought of those pious demons posing as clergymen. She'd been caught using her bed sheets to climb out of her window, so now her bed was stripped bare. She'd then tied the dresses in her wardrobe together and tried again. Needless to say, the only attire she was now allowed was the thin nightgown she wore. Her third escape attempt is the one she felt guiltiest about. Her poor maid. The girl had brought Belle dinner on the third day and Belle had clubbed her with the tray and stolen her scullery uniform. She'd nearly made it all the way to the stable before she'd been discovered.

          Since it had been proven, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that the Dark One had never touched her, Maurice had decreed that her wedding to Gaston would commence without delay. Only two days left. She massaged her sore throat. She'd screamed her throat raw that first day to no avail. Rumpelstiltskin wouldn't answer her. He wouldn't come for her. And she knew he could hear her.  _Just you wait until I get home, Rumpel_. But she couldn't think of him now. Thoughts of him only brought the tears, the pain. She wouldn't think of ...  _what the hell is that?_  Of course, she didn't have anything she could use as a weapon against an intruder; they'd taken everything.

          Belle crept closer to the door, wishing she had her dagger with her. Then she heard it, coming from the window. She whirled around in time to have something smack into her chest, knocking her to the floor. Her eyes flew to the window to see a man crawling over the sill, clearly out of breath from his climb. She felt the tears spring to her eyes as he lifted his face to take her in, crumpled and crying on the floor as she was.

          "Cover the mirror! Quickly!" he hissed quietly lest they be overheard.

          Belle rushed to do as he asked before throwing herself into his arms. "Jefferson! I have never been so happy to see you in my life."

          He squeezed her tightly and then set her away from him to assure himself she was unharmed. "I'm so glad I wasn't too late. I had to make a slight detour before making my way here."

          "How did you find me?"

          He quirked a brow at her. "Can we save that for  _after_  we're quit of this place?"

          She nodded and moved to the open window before glancing back at him. "How're we going to get out?" Her eyes widened as he held up his hat. "I don't want to go to Wonderland or Neverland or any other blasted land, Jefferson. I want to go home."

          "Here," Jefferson hissed, tossing her a small bundle which had been tied about his waist. "Put those on. And I'll have you know, I had to do a favor for someone I really detest in order to get this spell."

          "Spell?"

          "It's a potion I can pour on my hat. It won't bring us to another realm, but right outside the gate where our horses and provisions are waiting for us."

          Belle threw her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek warmly, her smile radiant. "You are the best." She kissed his other cheek. "Friend I've ever." She kissed his nose. "Had."

          Jefferson pried her off and picked up the hat, pouring a bright yellow liquid onto it. "I hope this stuff doesn't stain." He held out his hand to her and gave the hat a twirl, opening a violent purple vortex on the floor of her bedroom. "Shall we?"

 _I'm coming home, Rumpel!_  she thought happily and jumped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Angst! Horrors! Betrayal! Yeah, I know, I’m just awful lol. I really hope you enjoyed the chapter. Remember, the fluffy, lovely moments of making up is going to be worth it for our OTP.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Jefferson to the rescue! I love him. Poor Rumple. He's so in for it when she gets home. I really hope y'all liked the last chapter. It was a bit of a tear-jerker for me to write. Thank you, everyone, for the lovely reviews. I live for them so please leave some.

          "Are you alright, princess?" Jefferson asked, edging his horse closer to Belle's so he could reach out and grab her hand.

          "I suppose ... Just nervous, I guess." They were nearing the outskirts of the village which rested at the bottom of the mountain. She hadn't lied to her friend and rescuer; she really was nervous. It had been an arduous journey home. She was exhausted, having followed the hard pace Jefferson had set before them and she'd slept little. She couldn't seem to keep the nightmares at bay. She was having nightmares about Rumpelstiltskin's reaction to her return. What if he really didn't care for her? What if he threw her out once more? Where would she go? She was certain of the fact she would  _never_  return to Avonlea. After what her father had just put her through, she didn't care ever to set eyes on him again.

          Jefferson led them around the village, just to be on the safe side after his reception on his last visit. The road forked ahead of them and he slowed, regarding Belle worriedly. "I wish you would reconsider, Belle. It's not in your best interests to face him alone. I don't think he would hurt you, but you have to admit he's more unpredictable than a crocodile. There's always a chance —"

          Belle kept her eyes on the road ahead of her, dread seeping into her bones as Jefferson voiced everything she had been worrying over for days. She stiffened her spine.  _Courage, Belle._  "I'll be fine, Jefferson. I need to do this alone. I don't want him to take his anger out on you if something goes horribly wrong." She graced him with one of her rare smiles. Lately, she hadn't had very much to smile about. She'd been too busy with her tears and her heartbreak. "Besides, you need to see your darling Grace. I'm sure she has missed you terribly."

          Jefferson smiled at her sheepishly. "As I do her, but at least she's with her auntie Alex, no doubt having one tea party after another." His smile faded. "I will return to the Dark Castle in two days, Belle." He held up his hand when she began to protest. "I can't leave you there not knowing if you're alright. No arguments. Two days."

          Belle leaned over in her saddle and pressed a light kiss to his cheek. "Thank you again, Jefferson. If you hadn't come to my rescue, by now I would be wed to that brute my father chose for me. I don't know how I will ever be able to repay you."

          "Belle, I love you, my darling girl. I don't have many I can call friend, and you are a bright flame in the darkness. You bring joy to all who know you. It will always be my pleasure to come to your aid, no matter how big or small."

          Belle could feel the tears spring to her eyes at his words. Not one of the friends she'd grown up with in Avonlea had ever felt that way about her. His words brought her courage to deal with her problems ahead. "I love you, too, Jefferson. Give Grace my love, and I'd like you to think about bringing her with you when you visit again. I'd like that very much."

          They parted ways at the fork, Jefferson going to the right and Belle the left as she spurred her horse on in the direction of the Dark Castle. With every beat of the horse's hooves, her heart rate increased until she believed it would fly out of her chest. She gripped the reins tightly in her fist, urging more speed from the beast. It seemed no time had passed before she was riding through the gate – the great iron barrier welcoming her back - and dismounting at the front steps of the castle. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply.  _Home!_

          Belle pushed open the heavy double doors and paused. Something was off. A heavy dark pall hung in the air, almost as if the castle was alive with the same darkness which resided in its master. She glanced around the foyer, her eyes coming to light on the vase of roses sitting on the table. They'd turned completely black and lifeless. She sighed wearily. He'd let the darkness dominate him once again. She could feel the anger welling up in her chest to choke her. He'd done this to himself. He'd done this to  _her_  and she was so mad she could spit.

          Belle moved on to the double doors leading into the Great Hall and stopped abruptly as she took in the destruction. Their lovely home was a complete mess. Her eyes scanned the room, thinking it would take her days to clean it up. The long dining table had been cleaved in two. The lovely glass cabinet which spanned from floor to ceiling, and held his treasures, was a mess of broken glass and splintered wood, its treasures cracked or broken. The floor was littered with debris.

          For the first time since she'd made her deal with Rumpelstiltskin, the massive stone hearth was cold. The mirror which had been covered in one corner was shattered and pushed up against the wall. The soft rug she loved to sit on before the fire place was ripped to shreds. But it was his spinning wheel lying broken and damaged on its side which distressed her most. The only thing which seemed to have survived was the sofa sitting next to it.

          And that's where she found him. He was lying on his back, one arm thrown over his eyes and the other cradling her chipped cup to his chest. She fought back the tears threatening to betray her, pulling her anger about her like a shield. Her steps were purposeful as she strode through the chaos destroying the peace of her home. She stopped mere inches from him, hands on her hips, eyes glittering.

          "You unbelievable bastard!"

 

*.*.*

 

          Rumpelstiltskin sighed as her voice washed over him in a silken caress. It was back to torture him some more. Everywhere he went, he heard her voice. Visions of her lovely self popped up with more and more frequency to bedevil him. He would never be free of them. He would see her flouncing in from the kitchen to bring him tea. He would see her sitting upon her sofa reading to him softly. He would see her standing at the window looking out or lying on the hearth rug enjoying the fire. Always she would look up at him with those beautiful jewel-bright eyes and ask him how he could leave her. He felt a tear escape his eye as he turned to look at the vision of her.

          This was new. He'd never had a vision of her dressed like that. She was standing there dressed as though she'd raided his own closet. The black leather pants fit her like a second skin, the ends tucked into knee high boots and the royal blue silk shirt draped her torso in a most appealing way. He quirked a brow at her. His daydreams were getting a bit ridiculous apparently. Nor had she ever yelled at him like that, her eyes flashing angrily, hands planted firmly on her rounded hips. This was one daydream he never wanted to wake from. She was absolutely magnificent.

          "What have you done to  _our_  home, Rumpelstiltskin? How could you? Do you have any idea what I had to do to get back to you?! And this is what I come home to find." She was yelling again. He frowned at her, shaking his head to clear it. His guilt must be what was causing this difference in her.

          "I'm really not in the mood for another vision right now, dearie."

          "What?" What was wrong with him? He was looking at her as if she wasn't really there. Had he been fighting with her ghosts? It was slowly dawning on her that he was in more despair than she'd originally thought.

          He rose from the sofa, setting the cup on the mantle over the hearth before moving to stand before her. His eyes raked her appreciatively as he slowly circled her, never close enough to touch her. "I must say, this vision must be my imagination reaching new levels of insanity. You've never appeared to me in such tantalizing apparel." He leaned close to her, inhaling deeply, his eyes closing as a fresh wave of pain crossed his features. "You even smell like  _my_  Belle."

          Belle had had enough. He really didn't believe she was real. He thought she was a figment of his imagination.  _He'll thank me later,_  she thought wildly and let her hand smack sharply against his face. "Snap out of it, Rumpel!"

          He staggered slightly under the force of her blow, more out of stunned disbelief than anything. His dream Belle had never been able to touch him before. His hand had always passed straight through her, leaving him wanting. He grabbed her upper arms in a forceful grip, pulling her struggling form into his embrace. She was real. "You're real," he breathed into the curve of her neck, unwilling to believe she'd returned to him. She pushed against his chest, her nails digging into his flesh. He dropped to his knees before her, pressing his face into the soft silk covering her belly.

          Belle fought to hold onto her anger as she looked down at the top of his head. He was crying silent tears as he held her to him, his grip on her unbreakable, even if she had wanted him to let her go. Her heart softened, her anger dissipating in her chest. She threaded her hands through the fine strands of his hair, reveling at the softness. He'd never let her touch him like this before.

          "Rumpel, stop, love," she whispered softly, continuing to run her fingers through his hair. "Get up off the floor, please." His answer was to grip her tighter. "Would you at least look at me?"

          He shook his head. "I don't deserve it."

          "I agree; however, I have no wish to have this conversation with the top of your head," she said dryly, trying unsuccessfully to lift his face up to hers. She squealed in surprise as he stood and lifted her in his arms, carrying her over to the sofa and sitting down with her. He draped his arm across her legs, holding her firmly in place and laid his head against her shoulder, still refusing to meet her eyes. She knew this was going to be more difficult than she'd anticipated. She laid her cheek atop his head and closed her eyes, letting the stress of the past three days drain out of her.

          "Why did you come back?" he asked, his voice low and uncertain. It actually took her by surprise. She'd never known him to be anything but confident and craggy and snappish. She shook her head, refusing to dwell upon it. Her heart broke for him. How could he not know?

          She cupped his face in her hands, forcing him to meet her steady gaze. She could see the pain in his soft amber gaze. She could see the remorse and the self-loathing and centuries of heartache. "Because I love you, Rumpelstiltskin. What I endured to return to you is … because I love you." She brushed her lips to his, unmindful of her tears, unmindful of  _his_  tears. She was home, sitting on his lap and wrapped securely in his embrace. Nothing else mattered at that moment. She pulled away slightly and brushed the hair away from his eyes. She couldn't get caught up in her desire for him,  _yet_. There was too much to discuss, too many answers she needed before they could move forward.

          "You can't ... love me, Belle. I'm a beast, a monster. I'll do nothing but drag you into the darkness. That's why I returned you to your father. I couldn't allow myself to destroy you," he rasped, his voice trembling.

          Belle brushed her lips along his jaw to his ear. "Yes, and I'm still quite mad at you for that stunt. You broke my heart, Rumpelstiltskin."

          "Does it help to know I regretted it the moment I left you? I could hear you calling me, Belle. Your pleas and your tears shrieking through my brain nearly destroyed me. But I think it was worse when you stopped, when I couldn’t hear you any longer. I felt as though a part of me died."

          "Why?" she asked, lowering her eyes to his mouth. "Tell me why."

          He tilted her chin up, his fingers fanning out over her cheek. "Look at me, sweetheart. Don't hide from me." Finally, she dragged her gaze up to meet his. "I did what I thought was best because no matter how much I fight it, I can't stop myself from loving you. And it's wrong, Belle. It's unnatural. I've been told more than once Dark Ones aren't capable of love."

          Belle snorted. "Rubbish! Shouldn't that be for me to decide?" She ignored the stubborn look he was giving her. She grinned, her gaze filled with mischief. "How about we make a deal ...  _dearie?"_  she asked, throwing his own words back at him.

          He threw his head back and roared with laughter, the sound foreign to his ears as he gave her hip a squeeze. "A deal, you say? Are you sure, dearie?" She nodded. "What is it you wish to barter? What is your heart's desire?"

          Belle tapped her chin with her finger thoughtfully. "Hmm. I must think this through, so you can't twist my words. I must word it just perfectly to prevent it backfiring on me."

          "Never, love. Anything you wish."

          Her eyes were full of love as she peeked up at him from beneath her lashes. "I want you to never send me away again."

          "Done," he promised, drawing her bottom lip between his own.

          "Not finished. I don't want you to hide your feelings from me ever again."

          "Done," he said, moving his lips along her jaw and nipping her ear with his teeth. "Anything else, my love?"

          It was becoming increasingly difficult for her to concentrate. "Um ..."

          " _Um_ is good." He drew the lobe into his mouth and sucked gently, moving his hand along her leather-clad thigh.

          "Ummmm," she moaned, helpless against the onslaught of his lips. She drew away slightly. "Rumpel, is this how you make all your deals?"

          He crooked a brow at her. "Most assuredly not," he scoffed indignantly. "But this is a special deal. This is yours." He returned his lips to her neck. "Now continue with your demands."

          "I want forever," she rasped breathlessly, slipping her hand into the open collar of his shirt.

          His tongue dipped into the hollow of her throat, eliciting another moan from the delightful girl in his arms. "And what are you promising in return, my love? What is your offer? You're demanding forever, so I assume what you're offering must be profound."

          "What do you want?"

          "You."

          "You already have me," she declared honestly.

          "Make me an offer."

          She sighed into his mouth as he claimed her lips once more. "Happiness."

          He released her lips and rested his brow against hers, searching her face. "You make it sound almost possible."

          "It is. All you have to do is have faith in us. We  _will_  be happy, Rumpel. Now, do we have a deal?" She gasped as he ran his hand over the curve of her hip and along the swell of her bottom.

          "One more thing," he said, his grin positively devilish. "You have to wear these pants for me again."

          "Deal."

 

*.*.*

 

          "What is that noise? Was that your stomach? When's the last time you ate, Rumpelstiltskin?" She asked, pulling her head away from his shoulder. Every time she tried to rise from his lap, his arms tightened around her and wouldn't let her budge an inch. She didn't mind. She was quite content to sit on his lap indefinitely, at least until she'd heard that awful noise.

          "I don't remember. Maybe the night before you left?"

          "You've been wallowing in self-loathing since I left, haven't you? You destroyed the Great Hall and flopped over onto the sofa like a dead fish," she scolded. "Let me up."

          "No."

          "Yes. I'm going to go fix us something to eat before that thing growling inside you decides to burst free and devour us," she teased, her eyes widening in mock horror. "You didn't destroy my kitchen, did you?"

          "No, dear one. Not at all."

          "Come on, Rumpel, let me up. You can go up and take a hot bath while I prepare dinner," she coaxed.

          "I don't want to leave you. I'm still finding it hard to believe you're here with me, of your own free will, that you actually  _want_  to be with me." He lowered his eyes, not wanting her to see just how vulnerable he was feeling. Reluctantly, he let her climb off his lap to prepare the meal she had her heart set on and stood to do as she'd asked. He took in the mess he'd made in his anger and with a flick of his wrist the Great Hall was restored.

          Belle's smile was one of supreme satisfaction as she walked into the kitchen, a fire roaring to life in the hearth as she moved to her work space. Rumpelstiltskin's magic  _did_  have its perks. Hurriedly, she chopped some vegetables, tossed them into a pot with some ham she found in the food locker and hung it on a hook over the hearth, adding herbs and spices she knew would please him. She mixed ingredients in a large bowl to make a fresh loaf of bread and set it aside to rise. If she hurried, while the soup bubbled and the bread dough rose, she should have enough time for a bath. Then again, she might just wait till morning to make the bread. The soup she was making was hearty and should properly fill the bottomless pit which was Rumpelstiltskin's stomach.

          She stole into the bathing room on the first floor of the castle and gave the command for the tub to fill with hot water as she peeled the leather breeches away from her body and whisked the silk shirt over her head. She sank into the steaming water and leaned back with a sigh. It felt so good to be home, she thought, letting the heat seep into her bones. But she knew she wouldn't have time for a nice soak. If he found her gone, he was sure to come searching for her. Dipping her head back in the steaming water, she lathered her hair and rinsed it, praying she got all the soap out.

          Belle rose up out of the tub, and quickly towel-dried her hair, wrapping another towel about her body. It was then she realized she'd made a crucial mistake. She'd neglected to run upstairs for a change of clothes and there was no way she was putting those leather breeches on again. She could get away with this when she'd been rooming down in the dungeon. It would've been an easy enough task to slip down the passageway to her room wearing nothing but a towel without her master's knowledge. Now she would be forced to trek up two flights of stairs and hope he was still in his own bath. Well, it's not like she was naked.

          Cracking the door an inch at a time, Belle stuck her head out into the corridor. All was silent as she eased herself out of the bathing chamber. She could see the stairs as she crept silently along the wall, listening for any movement, even the slightest sound which would alert her to his presence. She made a break for the stairs, running full tilt as she crossed the foyer. Her legs screamed as she bolted up the stairs. One more set and she'd be in the corridor leading to her room.  _God's drawers!_  She didn't even stop, passing him on the stairs. Rumpelstiltskin stopped dead in his tracks on the fourth step from the top, his eyes widening incredulously as he watched Belle dart up the stairs, running faster than he'd ever seen her move. Wrapped in nothing but a fluffy white towel.

          The beast in him roared as desire flooded his veins. He had to brace his hand against the wall to keep himself from running right along after her. He couldn't let the beast out. He couldn't let it hurt her. Damn, but this was going to be difficult. He could see the monster rub its hands together in anticipation and his control slipped a notch. He heard Belle's door slam as she gained the safety of her room.

          He could do one of two things. One … he could return to the Great Hall and patiently wait for her as a gentleman should. Or two … he could climb the stairs once more and see if he could talk her out of that towel.

          He turned on his heel and began to climb.

 


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do NOT own OUAT or any of its characters. I wanted to throw that in at the top of this chapter due to the fact I am using a scene from the episode from season one entitled "Heart of Darkness".
> 
> A/N: That scene from "Heart of Darkness" is one of my favorite scenes between Charming and Rumpelstiltskin. I just couldn't leave it out of my story. But, of course, I had to put my own spin on it. I tried to stay true to the original dialogue. I can only hope my dear readers love it as much as I do. Please let me know what you think. Seriously, I really want to know. And thank you for your reviews, favs and follows. Xoxo.

          Belle slammed the door behind her, a blush covering her from head to toe. "He must think I'm a complete idiot rushing past him like that! Clothes, clothes, please don't let him have gotten rid of them," she fairly shrieked to the empty room, diving for her trunk under the window ledge. She couldn't let him see her like this. She wasn't concerned about only being covered by a towel. She knew he would see her unclothed eventually. Actually, the sooner the better. Her blush deepened as she remembered their sojourn at the lake. No, it was for another reason entirely.

          She whirled around, her eyes wide and round as the door opened behind her to slam into the wall. Rumpelstiltskin stood there, his dark amber gaze raking her petite frame, desire shining in their fathomless depths. What was he wearing? She'd never seen him in anything but leather and dragon hide. He was wearing soft, white knee length breeches made of cotton and a gold silk nightshirt, open at the collar and hitting him about mid-thigh and he was barefoot. He looked good enough to eat. She stood there mesmerized, forgetting all about why she didn't want him to see her in just the flimsy towel.

          His eyes took her in as they narrowed to dangerous slits, their color deepening to pools of black. "What the hell happened to you, Belle!" he shouted in outrage, making her cringe away from his anger. "Who dared to put their hands on you?" Belle's earlier remark from when she'd been yelling at him slammed into his gut.  _Do you have any idea what I had to go through to get back to you?_

          Closing the distance between them, she cupped his face in her hands and pressed her lips to his, trying to diffuse his anger. "Rumpel, it's alright. It's alright," she purred, her voice lowering to a husky register. She looked up into his eyes to see if he was calming. He wasn't. She now knew why so much of the land feared him. "Rumpel, I don't even feel them anymore, love. They will heal."

          He scooped her up into his arms and carried her to the bed, all thoughts of ravishment gone from his head as he laid her down gently. Her shoulders and upper arms were covered in deep purplish and green bruises, some in the shape of finger marks. He could not let this go. He could feel the darkness welling up in his chest, screaming for the blood of her tormentors. "It most certainly will  _not_  be alright, Belle. Now tell me what happened."

          Belle stared at him with a grimace as he whipped the towel away and began inspecting her like she was one of his experiments. "No, you're going to be angry."

          "Sweetheart, I daresay, I couldn't possibly be more furious than I already am. I left you in your father's care because I didn't think any harm would come to you there. Then you return to me looking as though you've been beaten,  _repeatedly!"_ That last word was rather loud even to her ears. His eyes drifted over her breasts, her flat stomach, and the soft mound of curls at the apex of her thighs. They stopped at her thighs, where more angry bruises marred the alabaster skin. He shot off the bed and began pacing next to it, his hands balled into fists. "Explain!"

          Oh, how she had dreaded this moment. She'd been able to hide the damage to her skin with her clothes earlier, and now she was getting the exact response from him she'd feared. "Rumpel ... " She sat up on the edge of the bed and caught his hand. "Come sit with me and I'll try to explain everything. He ignored her command and laid down on the bed, throwing his arm up to cover his eyes. He used the other to pull her down beside him, wrapping it about her waist.

          Belle laid her head against his chest, just over his heart and closed her eyes. She would've preferred to eat live eels than tell him about her time away from him. She knew he was going to blame himself. He removed the hand over his eyes, threading it through her wet auburn locks as he tried to calm enough to listen to her.

          "My father was quite pleased to see me. For one reason," she paused, fighting to keep her tears at bay. Rumpelstiltskin raised up on his elbow to look down at her. He pressed his lips to the bruises on her shoulder. He lifted her arm and kissed the bruises there, his warm lips making her flesh feel like a wave of electricity was traveling along her skin.

          "Look," he commanded, straddling her waist to reach her other side.

          Belle looked in disbelief as the bruises faded away into nothingness. "You healed me."

          "Continue with your tale. What was the  _one_  reason?" he asked, kissing each of her fingertips.

          She snorted in disgust, thinking of her father. "He still wanted me to marry Gaston. Of course, Gaston was more than willing to still have me ... provided I was still a maiden, provided I was still p-pure," she spat, her voice cracking towards the end when the tears began to flow unchecked.

          He paused his inspection of her body, his lips hovering over her belly and fought against the rage threatening to shatter the shaky hold he had on his temper. He moved his lips to her thighs, kissing each one in turn, his breath fanning across her skin and soothing her. "It's alright, dear one. You're home now. I promise I won't let anyone hurt you ever again."

          He stretched out next to her and urged her to continue. She didn't need any further coaxing. Once she'd begun, the tightly locked vault she'd hidden the memory in burst open and wouldn't seem to let her close it again until she'd told him everything. "Papa ... he, uh ... he called in the clerics to assure him you hadn't ... hadn't violated me in any way. Clerics indeed," she hissed. "They are the ones who caused all the bruising as they held me down." Belle turned over on her side, facing away from him, unable to meet his gaze any longer.

          He pulled her back against his chest, holding her tightly. "Can I look? Will you let me see into your memories, Belle? Just that one?"

          She glanced uncertainly at him over her shoulder. "You can do that?"

          "Of course, dearest," he murmured softly, nuzzling her neck. "I  _am_  the Dark One, you know."

          "Will it hurt? What do I have to do?" she asked, rolling over onto her back again to look up at him.

          He raised one perfect brow at her questions. "No, it won't hurt you. And all you have to do is relax." He brushed his lips to hers in a gentle kiss, smiling against her mouth as he felt the tension drain from her body. "That's my girl. Now close your eyes and concentrate on the memory." His voice took on a low hypnotic tone.

          The mage gazed deeply into her eyes as his hands soothed over her shoulders, up to cup her neck. Her tension eased even more as she surrendered to his touch. He pressed his brow to hers and her mind opened before him like a flower in bloom, allowing him to witness what she had seen.

          Rumpelstiltskin stood, seemingly outside himself, once more in Maurice's war room. He knew there was nothing he could do as he watched the guards seize  _his_  Belle and drag her off down the hall to a room with a canopy bed. It must be her own room they'd taken her to for her torture. The clerics were there waiting for her and quickly stripped her bare, forcing her down to the bed, holding her there as she struggled and screamed. Screamed for  _him_.

          He remembered her terrified voice shrieking through his brain and he'd forced himself to remain still, to ignore her cries. He watched as they probed her, diligently searching for her maidenhead. They blessed her and sprinkled her with holy water, praying over her that she would be released from the Dark One's vile spell which was holding her heart captive.

          He pulled himself from the memory and opened his eyes. She was gently brushing tears from his face. He hadn't realized he'd shed any while he'd been in her head. "It's my fault. My fault, and yet you still came back to me." He pressed a kiss into her palm. "How can you even bear to touch me?"

          "Because I love you, Rumpel. What happened to me was  _not_  your fault. You couldn't know I would come to harm." She kissed away his remaining tears and settled her lips against his in a sweet kiss. "Stop blaming yourself. Stop feeling guilty."

          He jerked his head up, sniffing the air. "What is that smell?"

          "What smell?"

          "It smells like rotted cabbage."

          Belle scooted quickly to the edge of the bed and pulled a clean shift over her head before running for the door. "Damn, my dinner's burning!"

          "You can't run off dressed like that!" he yelled after her, but she was already descending the stairs. He was waiting for her in the kitchen when she arrived, clutching her chest and trying to still her rapid pulse. He lifted the pot from its hook and magicked the mess away with a wave of his hand. He studied her for a moment and waggled his fingers at her, enveloping her in purple smoke.

          Belle waved her hands, shooing the smoke away from her. She looked down at herself to find the sapphire blue velvet dress. "You didn't have to do that," she scolded gently.

          "I most certainly did. I can't have you running about the castle naked. There are dire consequences for such behavior, and I don't think you're quite ready to pay them, dearie."

          She ducked her head sheepishly, groaning when she saw the empty pot. "I'm sorry I ruined your dinner."

          "No matter, dear one. I'll tell you what," he said, his eyes sparking with mischief. "You make us a pot of tea and I'll pop down to the village and grab something to throw together for dinner, shall I?"

          He was gone before she could argue.

 

*.*.*

 

          Belle had just set the lid back on the porcelain tea pot, her task complete, when he popped back in, his arms laden with packages. "What did you do, buy out the entire village?" she asked, watching him spread everything over the work table in the kitchen.

          He ignored the packages and pulled her to him, wrapping his arms tightly about her waist. "I was in a hurry. I couldn't tell you what half of those packages contain." He buried his face in her neck, trailing kisses along the curve of her collarbone and up to her ear. "I missed you."

          Belle moaned softly in her throat and turned her face away to give him better access. "It's not like I'm going to disappear if you decide to go to the market, Rumpel." She threaded her fingers through his hair and pressed closer.

          His ear twitched with a distant sound at the castle gate. With his heightened senses, he could, no doubt, hear a dog fart in the village square. But no, he had been expecting this for quite a while now. He knew he would have to go and deal with the nuisance. He just didn't want to let Belle go to tend to the situation. To hell with it, he'd just take her along for the ride. She could punish him later if she liked. Please let her, he thought, smiling against her creamy flesh.

          The front entry doors of the Dark Castle swung open, or rather crashed in under the boot of the prince as he stormed into the foyer. Rumpelstiltskin snarled in irritation. Now he was going to have boot prints all over his front door. Anyone who saw them was going to think they'd be allowed to take the same liberty and Belle was going to be distraught over the blood on her clean floor. Then she'd undoubtedly take out that upset on him.

          "Rumpelstiltskin! Show yourself!" the young shepherd turned prince, dubbed Charming by his princess turned bandit, yelled loudly.

          Rumpelstiltskin  _poofed_  into the foyer before the man he thought of as no more than an inconvenience. Belle hadn't even realized they'd left the kitchen. She was far more involved in their kiss than he'd realized. "Go away, shepherd," he said, breaking the kiss and trailing his lips along Belle's jaw.

          "Gods! I did  _not_  need to see this," Charming grimaced in disgust. "I thought you couldn't bewitch anyone to fall in love with you. I thought that was against your rules."

          Belle opened her eyes, slowly narrowing them on the young prince. "Rumpel, who is this man?"

 _Why not?_  "Belle, my darling, this is Prince David ... no, James ... no that's not right either. Call him Charming, it's less confusing. Shepherd, this is  _my_  lady, Belle, daughter to King Maurice of Avonlea," he sighed, introducing them. It was going to happen sooner or later, he thought in irritation.

          "And I'm not bewitched, either," Belle said dryly, crossing her arms over her chest as she regarded the prince.

          "You're with him because you  _want_  to —

          Rumpel drew himself up, his narrowing eyes glinting dangerously. "I'd stop there, shepherd."

          Charming shuddered visibly. He didn't want to know how the imp had obtained a princess. A princess who was obviously very much in love with him. The mental images were going to give him nightmares for a month.

          Rumpelstiltskin's lip curled up in a sneer. "Still dressing like a prince, I see. Even though you ran away from the life I gave you. How's that for gratitude?"

          Belle snorted. She'd taken an instant dislike of the prince when he'd accused Rumpelstiltskin of bewitching her to get her to love him. "Pretty ungrateful, I'd say."

          "You gave me a prison sentence!" Charming hissed in his own defense.

          "Yeah, one which you've now skirted. Careful, dearie. King George is a vengeful man."

          Charming was quickly coming to the end of his patience, but he did need the imp's help. "I'm here about Snow. Word is she's after the queen and she came to you for help."

 _Oh, I so don't have time for his whining. I could be spending time with Belle and he's whining about his lady love! Ugh!_ "Yes, indeed."

          He pushed Belle behind him as Charming unsheathed his sword.

          "What did you do to her?"

          "What did  _I_  do to her? You mean, what did  _you_  do to her," he trilled, pointing an accusing finger at the prince. "You caused her pain. Without that pain, she would never have drunk my potion to forget about you. _That’s_ what changed her.” _Really? How think could he get?_

          "Undo the potion," Charming pleaded. "All magic can be broken."

          "Oh, yes, with twoo wuv," he snickered.  _Snow White wouldn't know true love right now if it snuck up and bit her on the arse! She's too consumed with revenge._  Belle stifled a giggle behind his back.

          Charming thought about that for a moment, his brows knitted in a frown. "So that's it then? True Love's kiss will awaken her?"

          "Most certainly. But it's gonna be hard to kiss her when you don't know where she is," he confirmed, biting his tongue. Hard. His little Belle's hand was creeping up the back of his shirt in an effort to distract him. He stepped forward and slapped the sword point away from him, unable to stop the giggle bubbling from his lips.

          Charming sheathed his sword and continued pacing the foyer, knowing the blade would have no effect on his adversary. "Name your price."

          Rumpelstiltskin's eyes lit up with avarice, a plan forming in his sharp mind. "How about … your cloak?"

          Charming drew back in surprise. "My cloak? Why would you want my cloak?"

          "It's drafty in here," he quipped.

          Charming removed his cloak and placed it on the table in the center of the foyer. "Where is she?"

          "On her way to the Queen's Highway." He magicked a map which unfurled from his hand. This is the route she's taking. But you better be quick." Charming snatched the map away from the sorcerer. "Because if she kills the queen, she becomes as evil as the woman whose life she takes," Rumpelstiltskin warned.

          "She could never become that evil," Charming said confidently, turning on his heel and running down the steps of the Dark Castle to his waiting steed.

          Rumpelstiltskin moved to the door to watch the prince's departure. "Evil isn't born, dearie. It's made."

          Belle slipped her arms around his waist from behind and pressed her cheek to his back. "I'm so thankful you love me. I'd hate to be your enemy."

          Rumpelstiltskin chuckled as he pulled her around to face him, wrapping her in a warm embrace and resting his cheek atop her hair. "Charming's not an enemy,  _my_  Belle. Just don't tell him I said that."


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter contains adult themes … reader discretion is advised.

          "... and then the maiden kicked the knight who yowled in pain. She turned to the dragon and told him she was moving in. They had twelve little children who flew all over and terrorized the village ... " Rumpelstiltskin closed the book in his hand and peeked over Belle's shoulder.  _Yep! Sound asleep._  Surely, if she'd heard the drivel coming out of his mouth, she would've whacked him with the book. The day's excitement must have worn her out, he thought, stifling his own yawn.

          After Charming had left them alone, Belle had decided she'd wanted a picnic in front of the hearth. He was three centuries old and had been forced to have his dinner on the rug with her. What was wrong with their perfectly good dining table? he'd protested. She'd pouted. He'd given in, wanting only to see her smile. He wondered if this was what he was going to have to put up with from now on.

          They'd lain down on the sofa afterwards, so she could read to him, but he'd taken the book from her when her persistent yawning had kept interrupting. He should've known it wouldn't take her long to drift off. The question was, how was he to get up without waking her? He was sandwiched between Belle and the sofa cushions.

          Left with no alternative, he  _poofed_  them onto her bed and eased out from behind her. He magicked the velvet gown from her body, leaving her clad only in her shift. At least now she would sleep more comfortably. Belle moaned in her sleep, a deep frown settling between her brows as he pulled back the coverlet and settled it over her, tucking her in. Thunder crashed in the distance, causing the Dark Castle to tremble, and she thrashed about again and rolled over, seeming to settle deeper into her pillow.

          He watched her sleep for a few moments, debating with himself as to whether or not he should stay with her. He was worried. How damaged had the ordeal in Avonlea left her? His hands still trembled with the need for vengeance. He wanted to tear down her father's castle with his bare hands and leave nothing but a pile of rubble, completely wiping the kingdom off the map. How could they dare think they could get away with harming the Dark One's woman?

          He paled as he thought of what would have happened if he had taken her that night at the lake. If they hadn't found her pure? What would they have done to her? His restraint had saved her. She hadn't seemed to shy away from his touch since she'd returned to him, but how far was she willing to go? It was still unfathomable she actually  _wanted_  him to touch her. He knew what  _he_  wanted, but it was eating him alive not knowing what  _Belle_  wanted.

          Walking to the door, he scrubbed his hands over his face to clear the cobwebs. He was being ridiculous, he knew. He was beginning to doubt everything she'd fought to build between them again since she'd walked back into his door and called him an unbelievable bastard. He was, he admitted it, but for tonight he was going to do the right thing and leave her to her rest. He was going to drag himself into his own bedchamber and leave his love to her slumber.

          He closed Belle's door behind him and kicked his own open down the hall, heading immediately to his decanter of whiskey which sat on his nightstand. It was hard for the Dark One to get drunk, so he didn't even try. Rain lashed the Dark Castle in torrents, the sound helping to lull his ravaged emotions.  _His_  Belle was home. She'd forgiven him for being an idiot, and she loved him. What more could he have asked for? Abandoning the whiskey, he stretched out atop the black silk sheets covering his bed and let his eyes drift closed.

 

*.*.*

 

_His eyes were twin obsidian coals as he looked down on her, his lip curled into a contemptuous sneer. "It's simple really. I don't want you anymore."_

_Belle could feel his words pierce her heart, feel her eyes sting with the threat of tears, but she refused to believe the venom falling from his lips. "No. You don't mean it." She closed her eyes, willing away his image, unable to bear the sight of him before her._

_When she opened them, she was once again standing in her father's war room. She could feel the eyes of her father, of her unwanted fiancée and his advisors. Her heart clenched painfully in her chest. Why was Rumpelstiltskin doing this to her again? She shook her head, grabbing desperately for his hand._

_"Why did you come back, little girl? Would I have sent you away if I cared for you?"_

_"You do care. I know you do. I feel it in my heart." She was weeping in earnest now. "Please don't do this. Don't leave me here."_

_He jerked his hand from her grasp. "Don't return to the Dark Castle. Never return, you foolish girl. There is nothing there for you."_

_Strong hands gripped her shoulders, spinning her around as Rumpelstiltskin vanished, purple smoke taking him from her in an instant. "It's alright, Belle, I still want you," Gaston leered. "You belong to me now, Belle. All mine."_

_"NO!" she screamed, pushing against him as terror took root in her stomach._

_"He's your betrothed, Belle. Be thankful he still wants you, even though you were that demon's whore." Maurice stood over her, his eyes cold and filled with malice._

_Belle turned on her heel and ran down the corridor, searching for a way out. She had to escape. She had to find her way back to him. But the doors along the corridor had disappeared. There was nothing there but cool stone and mortar. She turned left and followed another path only to come up against a blank wall. Gaston waited for her. How had he beaten her here? "He doesn't want you!" he yelled at her, throwing back his head and laughing. "Even the monster doesn't want you."_

_She turned and ran back the way she'd come. Her legs felt as though they were encased in lead, her lungs burning from the effort of her steps. Again, she barreled into a blank wall. She turned back, only to run into her father. "He doesn't want you!"_

_"He does!"_

_"He doesn't want you!" the voices echoed, filling her head and surrounding her with their malevolent intent. He did want her ... she knew he did._

_They were coming for her ... demons disguised as pious men of the gods. They were coming to violate her in the name of righteousness. She needed him. Her mind screamed out for him to save her, to rescue her from the travesty which would be forced upon her. Why wouldn't he come?!_

_Strong hands gripped her shoulders, dragging her along the corridor. "No! No! Don't let them take me. Papa, don't let them do this! Rumpelstiltskin, help me! Please! I need you!" she screamed, terror gripping her in its icy grip. White robes surrounded her, holding her down, stripping her of her clothes._

_"Rumpelstiltskin!"_

 

*.*.*

 

          Rumpelstiltskin woke to the pain of her cry searing into his brain. "Belle!" He bolted from the bed and stumbled on his way the door, jerking it open and running into the corridor. He'd barely taken three steps into the shadows when she turned the corner and ran into him, bouncing back and landing on the cold stone floor. She was a frightful mess, her eyes wide with terror, her hair tangled about her shoulders. She was crying uncontrollably, shaking her head in denial.

          "No, no, no!" she sobbed piteously.

He held up his hands to show her he meant no harm. "Belle. Sweetheart. Tell me what's wrong," he said, his voice low in an effort to soothe her.

          "Rumpel?" she asked, relief washing over.

          He laid his hand aside her face, brushing a tear away with his thumb. "Are you alright?" he asked as she wound her arms around his neck. She was trembling violently as he lifted her into his arms from the cold floor and carried her to his chamber. "It's alright, Belle. Nothing is going to hurt you, dear one." He paused at the fireplace, putting his lips together and blowing softly. The dying embers immediately sprang to life, casting a warm glow and chasing away the darkness.

          Her grip didn't loosen as he sat on the side of the bed and settled her onto his lap. He ran his hands along her back in soothing circles, willing her to calm. "I should never have left you alone," he mumbled, pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth.

          "Please, Belle. Tell me what's wrong. I promise nothing will harm you. I won't allow it," he crooned softly. He brushed the hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ear. He pressed his lips to her temple, her cheek and to the corner of her eye, capturing a tear as it sought to escape.

          She pulled away slightly to meet his concerned gaze. "Y-You brought m-me back to A-Avonlea. It was a d-dream, just a h-horrible nightmare," she wept, her lips trembling, her eyes wide with fear. She sought to press her face back into his shoulder, but he stopped her, cupping her face in his hands and forcing her to meet his gaze.

          "Never again. I will never again willingly let you go, Belle. You belong to me, forever. Remember our deal, dear one?" he asked, tipping her chin up and placing a kiss to her parted lips. He laid her back against the pillows and pulled the coverlet over her, tucking it around her shoulder.

          "I remember. But, Rumpel, it was so real."

          "Would you like to tell me about it?" he asked, taking her hand and entwining his fingers with hers, marveling at the contrast between them.

Belle sighed deeply, her breath hitching from the sobs which had only recently died down. "You didn't want me anymore. You were cold and cruel and told me not to come back to the Dark Castle again ... that there was nothing for me here." A fresh wave of tears threatened at her eyes as she recalled the dream. "My father and Gaston were there, telling me the same thing, that you didn't want me anymore. I couldn't find the way out of the palace. No matter which way I went, I couldn't find my way out, I couldn't find my way back to you," she cried, unable to hold the tears at bay any longer.

          "Don't cry, love, please," he pleaded, unable to bear her tears, his own suffering joining hers as his own tears fell.

          Her hand tightened on his as he moved to get up. "Where are you going?" she asked, panic entering her voice.

          "I'm going to the tower to make you a sleeping draught, one which will keep the nightmares from returning."

          He let her pull him closer. "I don't need something to make me sleep. I just need you," she insisted, her grip firm on his hand, pulling until he lay beside her. He laid his head gingerly against the pillows, making no move to pull her into his embrace. He didn't want to frighten her with his roiling emotions. Guilt for what he'd done to her, fear he would hurt her, and desire ... always his desire for her.

          Belle closed the distance between them, pressing herself against his side and resting her head against his shoulder. She sighed deeply, relishing the feel of his heat seeping into her, warming her. She wouldn't let him run from her this time. He grabbed her hand as it slipped beneath his shirt, groaning as it touched the bare skin of his stomach.

          "Stop, Belle," he warned, turning on his side to face her.

"Why? Don't you want me, Rumpel?" she asked in a little hurt voice.

          "You know I do," he said, pulling her hand to his lips so he could press a kiss to her palm. "But I don't want you to do this because you're frightened or seeking comfort. I don't want to take advantage of you."

          She rose up on her elbow to look at him, urging him back against the pillow as she pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. "You won't be taking advantage." His arms tightened around her waist as she ran her tongue along his lower lip.

          "This is not something you can take back, Belle," he argued, but he could feel his resolve weakening. "I - I won't be able to let you go, love, if you change your mind. We can’t do this and then walk away … I couldn’t bear it." He was trying to hold on to his control, to give her the time she needed, but it was becoming increasingly difficult as her lips trailed along his jaw, leaving a burning trail of kisses to his ear.

          "I love you, Rumpel. I'm not going to change my mind," she whispered, threading her hand in his hair and forcing him to meet her gaze.

          "I don't want to hurt you." His eyes were a soft amber, filled with pleading.

          "You won't," she whispered softly, pulling his head down for her kiss. "You won't." A deep sigh escaped her parted lips as he rolled her onto her back and buried his lips against the curve of her neck. She forgot to breathe as her body took over, her stomach clenching and heat pooling between her legs. She fought to pull his shirt over his head, her need to touch him driving her onward. Her hands splayed across his back and she reveled in the softness of his skin.

          He lifted her arms above her head, catching her wrists in one hand and using the other to rip the shift from her body. He knew he was treading dangerous ground. He could feel the beast desperately fighting to get free. She was driving him mad with her roaming hands. He knew she wasn't doing it on purpose, her need to touch as great as his, but he couldn't lose his focus. He refused to ruin this for her. He  _would_  be gentle with her. It was for her he endured the pain of restraining the darkness.

          Belle fought against his hold. "Rumpel, please. Let me —" She cried out as his mouth settled over her breast, drawing the nipple deep into his mouth, sucking gently. His hand squeezed her hip, willing her to still her thrashing beneath him, knowing the effort was futile. He released her breast and moved upward, nipping her collarbone with his teeth and tongue, reveling in the taste of her before claiming her lips once more.

          "You taste like honey, dear one," he moaned against her mouth, deepening the kiss and sucking her tongue into his mouth.

          She was losing herself in a whirlwind of sensation. Every touch of his hands, every brush of his lips was bringing her closer to him, drawing her in. She could feel his erection pressing into her hip, proof of his desire for her. Her hips rose slightly as she felt his hand brush the inside of her thigh, coming ever closer to her core. She stiffened as his finger slipped inside her, a gasp slipping from her kiss-swollen lips. She arched beneath his clever fingers, the heat of their previous interlude at the lake just as strong ... but then the memory intruded ... the clerics and their invasiveness rising to chase away her pleasure and fill her with fear.

          Her eyes were glazed with panic as she opened them to find him staring down at her, his gaze one of concern. "Tell me to stop, Belle, and I will."

          She willed herself to relax and moved against his hand, feeling the tension drain from her.  _No! I won't let them ruin this for us. I won't let them have my happiness and turn it into something ugly._ "Don't stop," She panted, needing him to show her gentleness and love as only he could. He pressed the heel of his hand against her, his finger moving in and out, stretching her. "Please don't stop." She whimpered in frustration as he moved away, but she relaxed a moment later when he returned to her, as bare as she was. She wove her hands in his hair as he settled over her, a smile of satisfaction on her lips now that she was free to touch him.

          The feel of his bare skin pressed flush to hers drove her further up the peak, stoking the fire he'd started in her blood.

          Rumpelstiltskin didn't know how much longer he would be able to maintain his control as he pressed slowly against her opening. "Belle, are you sure?" he asked, his breathing ragged. "There's still time —" Her noble imp, always so concerned for her happiness, her well-being and yes ... her pleasure and desires. Her answer was to plant her feet onto the bed and push up with her hips, pulling him into her. He nearly lost it as he felt her inner walls close around him, but he couldn't ignore her gasp of pain and remained still. "I'm sorry, dearest ... so sorry."

          Slowly she relaxed, easing her nails out of his back. He was sure to be covered in scratches come morning and found he couldn't care less. Let her mark him. He would wear them with pride. He rocked into her gently, allowing her to adjust to his weight. She arched her back, relishing the feel of him filling her. She raised her legs and wrapped them around his waist, pulling him deeper into her and letting him set the pace. She could feel the pressure building inside her, threatening to send her over the edge to that beautiful place only he'd been allowed to show her before. He ground his hips into her, at last sending her spiraling into the abyss, dragging him along with her.

          "I love you," he whispered against her ear, causing her arms to tighten around his neck. He rolled to his side, pulling her to nestle against his side. "Are you alright?"

          Belle couldn't speak, overwhelmed with emotion as her breathing slowed and her heart rate returned to normal. She curled into him, laying her head against his chest and listening to his heartbeat beneath her ear. "I'm perfect."

          "I don't deserve to be this happy," he admitted sheepishly, placing a kiss to her temple and lacing his fingers through her hair. "I've done too many horrible things over the centuries to deserve you."

          "Shh. There will come a day when you realize you  _are_  a good man and deserve happiness just as much as anyone else. And if you forget, I will be there to remind you," she murmured, covering her mouth with her hand to hide her yawn.

          He pulled the blanket up to cover them and settled back against the pillows to sleep, almost believing they had a chance at true happiness. The darkness in him, the self-doubt and regret which had been his life scoffed at the idea. His human side smiled with hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Not even going to tell you how hard this chapter was for me to write. I really hope I didn't disappoint you. Thanks for reading!


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter contains adult situations … reader discretion is advised.

          Belle awoke with a start, disoriented from lack of sleep. Something had disturbed her slumber, but she couldn't, for the life of her, recall what it was. She closed her eyes again and nestled into the softness of her pillow, willing sleep to find her once more. Slowly, she cracked one eye open again to take in the unfamiliar surroundings before remembering the events of the past evening. A satisfied smile curved her lips and she sighed deeply, happily. It was Rumpelstiltskin's thrashing about which had woken her. He was calling out in his sleep.

          "Bae, I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Bae," he moaned fitfully.  _Who is Bae?_  she wondered absently. It was, no doubt, another of his secrets he liked to keep hidden from her. She reached out and laid her hand on his chest in an effort to soothe him. He stilled instantly, settling back into a peaceful sleep.

          She groaned as the first rays of dawn crept in under the curtains, knowing it was time for her to get up, at least to make tea. She was in no mood this morning for a grumpy master. Although, she thought with a grin, after last night, he should in no way be grumpy. She retrieved her shift from where it had been tossed onto the floor and groaned. He was hell on her undergarments. Her foot brushed against something soft and she bent down to investigate. She picked up his gold silk nightshirt and pulled it over her head, relishing the feel of it against her skin. She pulled the collar close to her nose, breathing in the scent of him, the scent of fresh straw and sandalwood and  _her_  Rumpel.

          She felt a bit self-conscious as she slipped quietly from his room and made her way downstairs, but she didn't want to take the time to dress. She wanted to return to him before he woke. The Dark Castle was cold and quiet as a tomb as she made her way to the kitchen, causing her to shiver. A merry tune slipped from her lips as she walked through the Great Hall, happiness near to bursting from her chest.

          Rumpelstiltskin rolled over and groaned, his hand coming in contact with nothing but smooth silk. It had been a dream. A cruel dream to torture him into insanity. Belle was gone. She was home with her family and would never return. And he'd had to suffer through the illusion of having her home, having her wanting him. He could still feel the pleasure pain of her nails raking his back as he'd sunk deep into her. A shiver passed through him at the memory. But it hadn't been a memory, had it? Only a fantasy.

          His head jerked up as the door swung open. His eyes fastened on Belle as she backed into the room, and he rubbed a hand over his eyes, convinced he was dreaming as he watched her slink over to the bed with a tea tray wearing nothing but his gold nightshirt.  _Holy hell! It's real._

          Belle set the tea tray on the end of the bed and slowly lifted herself onto the mattress. "Good morning, sleepy head," she greeted him, crawling to him on her hands and knees and pressing her lips to his. She took a moment to run her tongue over his bottom lip before pulling away from him and setting the tray between them. She peeked at him shyly from beneath her lashes as she poured his morning tea. Her smile quickly turned south as she watched him. "Rumpel? Is something wrong, my love?"

          He shook his head to clear it, returning her smile. "I thought I'd dreamed it, Belle. When I woke, and you weren't here with me, I thought —"

          "Hmm. We're going to have to work on your abandonment issues, darling." She handed him the chipped cup, so out of place with the new tea service, but knowing he'd want it. "I just went down for tea and biscuits. Thought you might be hungry." Her gaze dropped to his mouth, her eyes deepening to the color of cobalt. "I know I am."

          "Belle!" he laughed, smiling at her outrageous statement.

          "Gods! Was that a real laugh? Does the notorious Rumpelstiltskin actually know how to smile?" she teased, her eyes wide with mock horror. "Happiness suits you."

          His eyes were warm as they settled on her. What was she doing to him? he thought, shaking his head.  _Everything she promised._  "Indeed, dearest. Now tell me why you're running about the castle half naked? Not that I'm complaining, mind you."

          She set her empty cup on the tray and scooted over to press against his side, his arm going about her, a hand possessively coming to rest upon her waist. "I just thought the next time you decided to rip the clothes from my back, you would be destroying yours instead of mine," she teased, poking him in the ribs. "Rumpelstiltskin, are you blushing?"

          Heat was indeed evident in his face beneath his odd complexion. "Don't know what you're talking about, dearie." He dropped a kiss to her temple and hugged her closer, more content than he could ever remember being in the presence of a woman. Especially one as lovely as his Belle. There was a genuine warmth about her and she enveloped him in it, warming his cold heart and giving him hope. "Why were you up so early? I thought you would have wanted to sleep this morning."

          "You woke me," she said, resting her head on his shoulder. "You were talking in your sleep.

          "I'm sorry, sweetheart."

          "Can I ask you something?" she asked uncertainly, her eyes skittering away from his gaze.

          He nodded, his brows drawing together, wondering what he could have revealed in his sleep to have her shying away from him. He tipped her chin up, forcing her to meet his gaze. "After the bravery you displayed yesterday, standing up to the beast,  _now_  you're going to be shy?"

          Her teeth worried at her lower lip as she hesitated. "Who's Bae?" she asked, feeling him stiffen beneath her. His face was slipping back behind his mask and she could see him withdrawing from her. "It's alright if you don't want to tell me."

          "Why do you continue to surprise me with every word out of your lovely mouth?" He wrapped her tightly into his embrace and rested his cheek atop her hair. "Any other woman would have nagged until I spilled my entire tale. And here you are, offering me your patience. I promise to tell you everything, Belle, until I'm raw and bleeding before you. But today is for us."

          Belle forgot all about her questions as he rose and lifted her into his arms, carrying her bridal style into his large bathing chamber. Her eyes widened as she beheld the marble tub - sunken into the floor - slowly filling with steaming water. "Bubbles, Rumpel?" she asked incredulously.

          His lips brushed against the sensitive flesh just below her ear. "I've been fantasizing about you in this tub." He set her on her feet and whipped the nightshirt over her head, tossing it on the floor and leaving her as bare as himself. She squealed as he tossed her over his shoulder and waded into the water. "I must say, sweetheart, the reality far surpasses the fantasy."

          She ducked her head shyly, a rosy blush creeping up her neck to settle in her face. "This is much better than the lake," she chuckled softly, laying her head back to wet her hair. There were numerous vials along the edge of the tub for her to choose from, all filled with different soaps for her use. Rumpelstiltskin uncorked a vial and handed it to her and the scent of roses permeated the air. She poured some into her hands and began lathering her hair.

          His hands joined hers, unable to resist the temptation before him. His dark nails raked against her scalp in a gentle caress and he closed his eyes in pleasure at the feel of her long locks wrapped around his fingers. "I will always associate the smell of roses with you, my love. And peaches."

          She laughed throatily and dunked her hair beneath the water, rinsing away the soap. "My turn."

          "Your turn?" he asked warily. "I don't want to smell like roses, Belle. How would that look for the Dark One to show up for a deal smelling like flowers?"

          She giggled. "Fine, you choose," she said, pointing at the vials. He chose one which smelled woodsy and masculine for her to work through his hair. His eyes closed, relaxing into her touch as she massaged his scalp, her breasts pressing into his back as she worked.

          Her hands worked themselves into the nape of his neck, massaging away knots of tension, trailing down his back and drawing a soft moan from his throat. "You have your own magic, sweetheart," he said in a husky whisper, giving her free reign to continue with her ministrations. Emboldened, she raked her nails over his hips and over the flat plane of his stomach. The sound which came from him startled her as he grabbed her hands to stop her.

          "Did I wake the beast?" she purred into his ear, pulling the lobe into her mouth and sucking gently. "Are you going to growl for me?" She skimmed her teeth along the prominent artery in his neck and then ran her tongue along the reddening flesh.

          He turned in her embrace and crushed her to him, wrapping one arm around her waist and the other beneath her thighs. "You don't know what you're asking for, Belle. If I lose control, I could hurt you."

          She wrapped her arms about his neck and ignored his warning, pulling his head down for her kiss. "I don't want you to hide from me. I want all of you, Rumpelstiltskin." Her tongue traced the seam of his lips before delving into the sweet warmth of his mouth, trying to show him what she wanted without having to spell it out to him.

          She was going to be the death of him, he thought frantically. Her hands were frenzied in her need to touch him, brushing against his back, his chest and her nails digging into his ass. She trembled in his arms as he slid his hand along her belly, the muscles clenching and rippling at his touch. She stiffened in his arms as he slid his finger inside her warm wet folds.

          "What is it?" he asked worriedly as pain washed over her flushed features.

          She shook her head. "Tender. Don't stop," she insisted.

          He channeled his magic through the hand nestled against her sex. "Better?" he asked, searching her features.

          "Yes. Rumpel, please," she pleaded, her hips bucking against his hand. He lifted her up, running his tongue between her breasts and along the swell before taking her nipple in his mouth. Her back arched, her hands threading through his hair and pulling him closer as he used his teeth and tongue to heighten her pleasure.

          Belle slipped her hand between them and wrapped it around his length. The beast roared in appreciation, his grip on her tightening. He dug his hand into her hair and pulled her head back to capture her gaze. "I warned you, my siren."

          She opened her eyes to stare into his own. The beast was loose, evident in the obsidian orbs burning into hers. She gasped, her breathing ragged, the change in him only fueling her passion. "I love you," she breathed against his mouth as he thrust into her. "Don't stop, Rumpel. Don't leave me."

          He nearly came undone as her tight, wet walls closed around him. He ran his tongue along the curve of her neck, biting her gently and then laving the patch of skin he'd abused as he rocked against her, marking her as his own.

          She would be bruised when he was done with her, she thought wildly, holding on for dear life as she edged closer to the precipice.

          "Mine, Belle. Say it!" he growled in her ear as he continued to thrust into her, her inner folds clenching him tightly as she came apart in his arms.

          " _Yours_. Only yours," she cried, holding on to him as he found his own release, his head dropping to her shoulder. She cupped his face in her hands as she fought to get her ragged breathing under control, searching his eyes as they returned to their normal shade of amber. "Are you alright?" she asked gently, kissing the corner of his mouth as he grinned sheepishly at her.

          "You provoked the beast," he said accusingly, "deliberately."

          "I had to make sure."

          "Of what?"

          "I knew in my heart even your darkness wouldn't hurt me, but I needed to be certain," she breathed softly, pressing her brow to his. "Because you love me, you were able to hold the darkness at bay. I need _you_ to see it."

          He took her mouth in a searing kiss, plundering her sweetness and leaving her breathless. "Forever."

 

*.*.*

 

          "But, sweetheart —"

          "It's the right thing to do and you know it. You're just being stubborn, Rumpel," Belle shook her head as she continued to watch him pace before her. They had been enjoying the quiet of the Great Hall in the late afternoon before the conversation had turned to her time away from him. His pride was pricked, and it was steadily turning his mood sour. "You're being ungrateful." Now she was trying to make him feel guilty.

          "Belle, I'm not being ungrateful. I just don't think I —"

          "If it hadn't been for his help, his  _loyalty_  to us, I would be married to a man I don't love. I would be sharing someone else's bed, trapped forever serving as that arrogant buffoon's broodmare. You at least owe him a thank you!" She rose from the sofa to face him, her eyes flashing angrily.

          How had this escalated into a full-blown argument? And the horrible thing was, she was right. He had listened as she'd told him her tale of her escape attempts and how she'd been at the end of herself when Jefferson had come to save her. Rumpelstiltskin knew he was going to have to humble himself and thank the hatter for saving her when he couldn't and that was the rub. It was burning a hole in his gut because it _should_ have been him. If he had gone to her, if he had answered her pleas for help, he would have saved her and wouldn't now be indebted to his friend.

          His expression was contrite as he slid his arms around her waist and pulled her into his embrace. "Fine. I will profess my undying gratitude to the man, for you." He was rewarded for his compliance when she threaded her hands in his hair and pulled his lips down for a heated kiss. He convinced himself he was doing this to make her happy and no other reason, but he shuddered at the thought of what her fate would have been without the hatter's help. Anger flared in his chest at the thought of the knight's hands touching  _his_  Belle as he did.

          She laid her head on his shoulder and sighed, breathing him in. "Thank you."

          Rumpelstiltskin stiffened in her arms as the doors of the Great Hall opened behind them, his hands tightening painfully on her waist. She looked up at him worriedly, startled as his eyes darkened with anger. He seemed to curl around her in a protective stance, defending what was his as the visitor's icy voice wove its way through the room.

          "How ... touching. Rumpel has a new pet."

          He cupped Belle's face in his hands and pressed a chaste kiss to her lips. "Tea would be lovely, my darling. If you would." He watched Belle silently leave the room before turning to face his uninvited guest. His voice was laced with venom as he regarded her, one cynical brow raised in question.    

          "What do you want, your majesty? I assume you have good reason for your visit?"

          "Hmm, yes. I need to borrow your sleeping curse. Mal is being difficult and won't let me have hers," she said, her ruby lips pulling into a pout.

          Rumpelstiltskin rolled his eyes at the queen. "Are you still on about that? You've taken everything from the girl as it is. How far are you planning to take this, Regina?"

          Unbridled anger flashed in her eyes, the only tell-tale sign in her posture, her hands balling into fists at her side. "I will take it as far as I want. I will not rest until she pays for what she did to me," she hissed.

          "And what then?  _If_  by some chance you are successful in your scheme and are able to take your revenge to its completion? What will you have to live for? What will you do with yourself?" His high-pitched giggle resounded through the Great Hall, causing Regina to grind her teeth in vexation. "Do you really think you'll be happy?"

          But she was in no mood to ponder his questions, a mask of indifference clouding her perfect features. "Are you going to let me borrow the damn sleeping curse or not, Rumpel? I'm in no mood for your games today."

          "Do you really need to add another debt to your very long list, dearie?"

          "What's one more?" she asked, her twisted smile sliding back into place.

          "Very well," he relented. He waved his hand, a scroll of parchment appearing on his palm. "But remember, it's not going to end well."

          "For her maybe." Her eyes narrowed on Belle as she swept into the room with a tea tray and set it at the end of the dining table, pouring three cups. She watched as Rumpelstiltskin moved to the girl's side and took the offered cup from her, his features softening and his hand lingering on hers. It intrigued her to see the Dark One so enamored of the chit.

          "Was there anything else, your majesty?" he said, his eyes never leaving Belle as the girl approached her and offered her tea.

          "Why thank you, dear," Regina said, pasting a bright smile to her lips which didn't match the vicious gleam in her eyes. "Have you worked for Rumpel very long? I don't remember seeing you on my last visit."

          Belle dropped a quick curtsy to the queen and smiled. "Not very," she arched a brow and moved to the sofa. She knew Rumpelstiltskin wouldn't want her to engage in conversation with this particular guest, having heard him fly into a rage over dealings with the woman time and time again.

          The icy hand of fear crept up Rumpelstiltskin’s spine as he watched Regina's gaze settle on Belle. He knew that look in the queen's eyes and could feel the wheels turning in her head of how she could use her against him. He stepped into her line of sight, blocking her view, his eyes narrowing dangerously. "Don't you have somewhere you need to be? Someone's life to be ruining?" He leaned closer, inspecting her face. "An anti-wrinkle potion to be mixing?"

          Regina's hand flew to the corner of her eye. Her anger doubled when she heard Rumpelstiltskin's pet snort from her place on the sofa. "Hmm. Thank you for the curse, Rumpel. I'll show myself out." Her ruby lips curled into a sneer as she looked over his shoulder at Belle. "It was lovely meeting you, dear. I'm sure I'll be seeing you soon."

          She turned on her heel and left as quickly as she'd come, leaving Rumpelstiltskin with a worried frown at the thinly veiled threat he'd heard in her voice. He didn't like her smarmy tone and it left tendrils of dread to creep through his veins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I hope you liked the chapter. Please leave a review. Thanks to everyone for reading. I'm so feeling the love. You all are great!


	14. Chapter 14

          Belle rolled onto her side, her hands reaching as she stretched the kinks out of her body. She frowned worriedly as she noticed Rumpelstiltskin's absence in their bed, the blankets still smooth on his side. It also made her wonder how she'd gotten there. She clearly remembered falling asleep in the library curled up on the sofa, engrossed in a romance she'd chosen to distract herself while Rumpelstiltskin had busied himself with his latest worry.

          After Regina had left the Dark Castle, he'd become increasingly agitated, unable to keep still. He’d tried spinning - to no avail - abandoning the task to pace before the fire. He'd tried sitting quietly to listen to her read to him, her voice usually able to lull him into a relaxed mood, but he'd been unable to enjoy it, mumbling under his breath about plots, schemes and all-around nastiness the queen was capable of wreaking. His afternoon tea hadn't even been able to soothe him. And in all his restlessness, he’d refused to share his concerns with her. She'd left him to his dark mood and sought the sanctuary of her kitchen to make dinner.

          He'd been melancholy over dinner, hardly touching his food and staring into the fire, brooding and unresponsive. She had grabbed his hand where it was lying on the arm of his chair and he had started at her touch, his thoughts far away. "Rumpel, why do you let the queen rattle you so?" she asked innocently enough, hoping he'd reveal his pique with her.

          His eyes narrowed angrily on her, making her draw her hand back in surprise. "That shouldn't concern you, dearie. But I know her, I trained her. She's up to no good."

          Finally, she’d given up and cleared the table before retiring to the library. She'd let him stew in his rage for as long as it took, but she would give him his space before she lost her own temper. It still amazed her she even had a temper. Especially when she felt as though she could direct it at him. She was confident he wouldn't send her away again, confident he loved her, yet also equally confident he would try to talk her into leaving on her own at some point when his inner turmoil convinced him it was the best thing to do.

          Belle had just finished her tea when he'd appeared in the library, his arms loaded down with books which had been stashed in the tower room he kept for his more serious spell work. He'd wanted to make sure she didn't have access to them, claiming he didn't need her nosing around where she might get hurt. He had immediately settled on his stool at the work table and begun pouring through the contents. However, she had objected most strenuously, when unable to find his answers in one book, he would toss it over his shoulder to the floor in a mangled heap.

          "Rumpel, you're going to ruin them," she'd scolded, picking the text up and cradling it in her lap, her hand caressing the spine to check for damage.

          "Belle, you don't seem to grasp the seriousness of this problem!" he'd snapped. "You don't know what that woman is capable of. And it's all my fault. I never should have let her see you. She's evil and smart and lives to bedevil me. She  _will_  try to find a way to use you to hurt me." He'd grabbed her upper arms and given her a little shake, his eyes fierce, trying to make her understand. "I won't let her hurt you!"

          She'd simply laid her head against his chest and reached up to tug his hair, feeling the anger drain out of him as she’d pressed closer. She was becoming quite adept at diffusing his anger. "I know you won't. You'll figure it out and everything will be fine. But you can't let her rile you. You have to keep a clear head." And for once, he’d actually heeded her advice. He'd drunk the cup of tea she handed him and set about going through his books for an answer, even though it stung a little that he wouldn't allow her to help. She'd returned to the sofa and settled in with her own book, leaving him to his work. Apparently, he'd brought her up to bed, but hadn't joined her.

          Belle groaned as she swung her legs over the side of the bed and rose to dress for the day. She hated when he didn't sleep. It meant he was going to be a veritable bear this morning.  _Oh no! Jefferson's coming today to check on me._  She could well imagine Rumpelstiltskin taking out his sour mood on the hatter. She made her way to the kitchen, noting his absence in the Great Hall as she passed. He was, no doubt, still in the library working. Quickly, she prepared a tea tray and ascended the steps to face the beast.

          She set the tray down on the table by the sofa and gasped as his hands slipped about her waist, hauling her roughly against his chest. His teeth grazed the curve of her neck as his lips moved to her ear and she had to fight down a fresh wave of desire as he whispered, "I missed you. What took you so long?" Her answer was a low throaty moan. "I love it when you moan for me, sweetheart." Rumpelstiltskin turned her in his arms and claimed her mouth with his for a long moment before stepping back and surveying his handiwork. She swayed in his arms, her eyes heavily-lidded with passion, lips parted and swollen from his kisses, and a rosy blush on her cheeks. "Unfortunately, we have important matters to discuss this morning."

          Belle watched him move to the sofa and sit down to fix himself a cup of tea and groaned inwardly at the loss of contact. She fought to get her breathing under control as she sat next to him. "D-Did ... uh ... did you come up with a solution to your Regina dilemma?"

          "I believe I did, but my theory has to be tested," he said softly. A grin curled his lips as he took in her struggle to regain her senses, pleased it was  _his_  touch which had caused it. "Would you mind terribly fetching that small box from the work table?"

          Belle did as he asked and placed the box in his hands, curious to see what was inside. She stared down dumbly as he placed the object in her hands. It was black and pulsing with very little red showing through, in the unmistakable shape of a heart. The breath hitched in her throat as her eyes flew to his face in alarm. "Is this —"

          "My heart," he said softly. He could hear Belle's own heartbeat accelerate. "There's no reason to be alarmed, love."

          Her voice was filled with awe as her gaze met his. "Rumpel, I'm holding your heart in my hands."

          "You always have, Belle, from the moment I saw you. But that's beside the point." He opened his mouth to say more, but his words were cut off as she ran one delicate finger over his heart. Warmth spread through his chest and gooseflesh erupted over his skin. It felt as though she were healing him from the inside out and it left him weak and dazed. He watched her trail her finger over the surface again, the blackness disappearing under the digit and leaving a path of red.

          "What happened? Did I hurt you?" she asked worriedly as he took the organ away from her shaking hands. She noticed his eyes were damp, and she reached up to touch his face. But it wasn't pain she'd made him feel, it was love and the emotion was somewhat more than he could bear.

          His voice was filled with reverence. "No, you didn't hurt me. I could  _feel_ your love, Belle, when you touched my heart just now. I could  _feel_  it. I've never felt anything like that before," he croaked, ducking his head sheepishly.

          She pressed her lips to the corner of his mouth and brushed the hair away from his eyes. "I love you, Rumpel. I guess you still have a hard time believing it, don't you?"

          "I'll never doubt it again. I can promise you that."

          "Please tell me you're planning to put it back where it belongs."

          His attention snapped back to the task at hand and he grinned wickedly. "Naturally, but first ..." He drew a small vial from inside his vest and held it up to the light, its contents glowing pink. He poured the liquid over his heart and held it closer to her, so she could see the effects. It glowed and pulsed around his heart like it was encased in a shield. "If I'm right, which you know I always am ..." She lifted a perfectly arched brow at him and he giggled. "This potion will ensure it can never again be removed from my chest by anyone other than myself." He waggled his brows playfully at her. "Would you like to put it back where it belongs?"

          "What? Me?"

          He giggled again. "Squeamish, dearie? You're looking rather green." Rumpelstiltskin grabbed her hand before she could retreat and placed his heart in her palm. She couldn't look away, her eyes wide with fascination and a little fear as he placed her hand to his chest and thrust it inside.

          "Gods! This is so wrong," she squealed as she felt him guide his heart back into place.

          "You can let go now, Belle."

          She jerked her hand back, expecting it to be covered in blood, relieved when it was still pristine and unblemished. "Don't ever do that again, Rumpelstiltskin," she hissed. "You leave your body parts where they belong." She was a little put out by his amusement.

          "Wait, we still have to test my theory." He snatched her hand and shoved it back through his chest. He ignored her shrieks of protest and regarded her seriously. "Wrap you hand around it. Do you feel it?"

          "Yes," she squeaked nervously, fighting down a wave of panic.

          "Now pull," he commanded. He smiled in satisfaction as she pulled with all her strength and the organ remained intact.

          "It won't move. Am I doing something wrong?"

          "No. The potion worked." He removed her hand from his chest and kissed her fingertips.

          "Are you going to explain the purpose of this little experiment?" she asked, shaking her head in confusion. "And what this has to do with Regina?"

          He pulled her to nestle into his side and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pressing her close and letting her warmth seep into his side. "When you take a heart, you have control over it. You can make that person do anything you want. Anything, Belle. Regina is famous for her collection of hearts. She keeps them in a vault at the Winter Palace. If she were to somehow get to you, take your heart ... " his voice trailed off as he shuddered.

          "She could command me to harm you," she finished for him, letting his words sink into her.

          "I have to protect you, Belle. That's why I tested it on myself, before ... "

          "Before you do the same to me." She was suddenly nauseated at the thought of his hand digging into her chest. She knew it was necessary, but she was far from happy about it. "Will it hurt?"

          "Do you trust me?" he asked, not realizing until that moment just how much her answer meant to him.

          "Of course, I trust you," she muttered irritably, wondering how he could even ask such a stupid question. This was the man she'd chosen to give her heart to, literally it seemed.

          His eyes darkened as he pulled her to her feet and wrapped her in his embrace. "I promise you won't feel more than a mild discomfort," he vowed as his lips found the sensitive flesh below her ear, using his teeth and tongue to mark the area. She was stiff in his arms. "Just relax, dear one. Concentrate on what I'm doing with my mouth, not my hands."

          Belle slowly began to relax as he left hot open-mouthed kisses along her jaw before moving to her mouth, sucking her bottom lip and delving his tongue inside. She became lost in his kiss, letting his heat seep into her as a fresh wave of desire rolled over her. She arched into his hand as it cupped her breast through the thin fabric of her gown, his thumb teasing the nipple. She didn't feel his hand slip into chest and caress her heart, too lost in the passion he was invoking in her.

          "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?" an outraged voice asked from the stairwell which led into the library.

          Rumpelstiltskin broke off the kiss and leaned his brow to Belle's for a moment before turning to their visitor, her heart clasped gently in his hand. "Don't you know how to knock, hatter?" he asked dryly. He stared down at her heart, not sparing a glance for his friend. He lovingly caressed the organ, marveling at the brightness and purity which could only belong to the woman he loved.

          "Why don't you have some tea, Jefferson," Belle offered a little breathlessly, still consumed with all things Rumpel. "We'll just be a moment."

          Jefferson gaped at her incredulously. "Belle, he's holding your heart in his hand. He could crush it and end you, and you're telling me to have tea! What the hell is wrong with you?!"

          Rumpelstiltskin cast a scathing glance over his shoulder at the hatter and poured the potion over Belle's heart, watching it glow and encase it in magic. He wrapped his arm about her waist and held her firmly. "Are you ready, sweetheart?" At her hesitant nod, he thrust his hand into her chest and set it gently back into place. "Are you alright?" he asked as she filled her starving lungs with air.

          Belle rested her head against his shoulder, her breathing becoming steady as he traced soothing circles on her back and stroked her hair. "Good as new, Rumpel."

          "Would one of you tell me what is going on? Please?" Jefferson asked desperately as Belle moved to sit on the sofa and poured him a cup of tea as though Rumpelstiltskin hadn't just ripped her heart from her chest.

          "Regina," they chorused. Rumpelstiltskin smiled warmly at her before turning to Jefferson. "Regina paid us an unwelcome visit yesterday and she showed a marked interest to our lovely princess. I had to take precautions to protect Belle."

          "Really, Jefferson, you should know Rumpel wouldn't hurt me," she scolded gently.

          "I beg to differ, my girl. I witnessed just how much he's capable of hurting you," the hatter scoffed, his eyes shooting daggers at the imp.

          Rumpelstiltskin's eyes narrowed menacingly only to soften as Belle took his hand in hers, soothing her thumb over his knuckles. She turned back to Jefferson and met his worried gaze. "It's done, Jefferson. Let it go."

          "But —"

          "Let it go. We're happy now. Together. You don't have to worry about me anymore," she said gently, her smile blinding.

          Jefferson sat back heavily against the sofa cushions and ran a hand through his wild hair. "Who would've thought it? The Dark One and his little princess ... in love." He glared darkly at his friend. "Took you long enough."

          Rumpelstiltskin ground his teeth together and smirked at Jefferson. "I ... uh ... thank you, hatter. Thank you for bringing her back to me," he said, the words near choking him.

          "I beg your pardon? Was that a _thank you?_ From the Dark One?"

          Belle poked him in the chest. "Knock it off, Jeff."

          "Classic," Jefferson chortled.

          Rumpelstiltskin glared at him. "Snails, Jefferson."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/n: I just love this chapter. I hope you enjoyed it, too!


	15. Chapter 15

          Belle's voice was soothing to Jefferson's wine addled brain as he listened to her read from the book in her lap. It was mid-afternoon, and he lounged in a large comfortable chair Rumpelstiltskin had conjured next to the sofa in the Great Hall. He'd never seen the imp so relaxed as he stretched out alongside Belle on the sofa, enjoying the feel of her nestled in his arms, her voice ringing softly in the room. It was quite the cozy scene, just unexpected. The hatter knew how stubborn his friend could be, and he had, in fact, been convinced he'd find Belle devastated and broken upon his arrival this morning. It wasn't often he could just enjoy a peaceful afternoon with his friends. It was almost too peaceful, in fact.

          "You're frowning, Rumpel," Belle said, an amused grin lighting her face.

His hand stilled where it had been combing through her chestnut locks in an absent manner. "You aren't even looking at me, Belle. How can you tell I'm frowning?"

          Still without looking, she teased, "I can feel it in your posture. Now what's wrong?"

          "We have company," he growled, rising from the sofa and striding purposefully towards the double doors and into the foyer. "And the princeling had best not leave boot prints on the blasted door again!"

          Belle clucked her tongue at Jefferson, who remained as he was, his legs draped over the arm of the chair, nursing his glass of wine. The front doors did indeed get kicked in by the prince's heavy boot as Belle came to a stop next to Rumpelstiltskin. She could feel his ire rising as he came face to face with Charming, clearly upset his peaceful afternoon had been shattered.

          "Rumpelstiltskin, we need your help," Charming said as he strode forward, tugging a young woman along behind him.

          Rumpelstiltskin rolled his eyes. "What have I told you about kicking in my door like you own the place, shepherd," he snarled, his lip curling up in a sneer. With a flick of his wrist, the boots vanished from the prince's feet, leaving him standing there barefoot. "Maybe if you kick it in barefoot, it won't leave prints on my damn door!"

          "Charming, apologize," the young woman chastised. Belle studied her closely, her hand covering her mouth to hide her surprise.

          "Snow?" she asked incredulously, rushing forward to warmly embrace the princess tuned bandit.

          "Belle!" Snow White gushed in relief. "Charming told me this crazy story about you being the captive of the Dark One ... but not really a captive ... more like ... well I'm not going to say exactly what Charming told me," she blushed lightly, glancing at her prince with a withering look. "Are you alright?"

          Rumpelstiltskin and Charming watched the two women with twin expressions of horror. "Belle, how do you know Snow?" he asked, feeling his gut begin to twist with anxiety.  _This doesn’t bode well._

          The smile she turned on him was blinding in her happiness at being reunited with her friend. "Snow and I are old friends. My father was very close to King Leopold before his death." She turned back to Snow. "And, yes, I'm alright. Why wouldn't I be?"

          Snow pulled Belle closer to whisper next to her ear. "Really, Belle? You're living with Rumpelstiltskin, the Dark One, the most feared being in all the known realms. I expected to find you chained in a dungeon."

          Rumpelstiltskin bristled at her quiet words. "I can hear you, dearie!"

          "No, I moved out of the dungeon more than a week ago," Belle snarked dryly, her smirk an exact imitation of the one Rumpelstiltskin usually wore. Snow looked horrified, as did the prince. Rumpelstiltskin giggled and said something like  _that's my girl_ under his breath. Belle turned to face her bandit friend’s beloved, moving the topic of conversation away from her nighttime accommodations. "I believe you said something about needing Rumpel's help?"

          Jefferson, having gotten up to refill his glass, stopped in the doorway to take in the new visitors. "Ah, George’s son and Snow. So, you're the reason the queen has doubled her patrols in this area."

          "Regina doesn't need an excuse to wreak havoc on the populace," Charming protested.

          Jefferson squared his shoulders defensively and raised a brow at the prince, casting a pointed stare at Charming's bare feet. "If you're planning on going against Regina, you might want to find some appropriate footwear. Wouldn't want to damage your princely piggies."

          Charming took a step toward Jefferson, his hand on his sword. "Don't —"

          "Enough!" Rumpelstiltskin shouted wearily. "Shepherd, what do you want?" he asked, pinching the bridge of his nose where his newest headache was beginning to form. "Come on, out with it."

          But it was Snow who addressed him. "Rumpelstiltskin, Charming and I respectfully request sanctuary for the night. We've only barely escaped from King George's forces who ambushed us. They're insistent on bringing him before the king for treason."

          Rumpelstiltskin didn't hesitate with his answer. "NO! No, no, no!"

          "Rumpel —"

          "No, Belle! What? Do you think the Dark Castle is a posh inn?" he asked sarcastically, not realizing he was sparking her ire.

          Belle moved slowly to stand before him, his eyes watching the gentle sway of her hips as she approached. He felt his stomach churn nervously as she laid her hand against his chest and smiled sweetly at him. "May I have a private word ... please?" she asked, her eyes swimming with mischief and something else he didn't care to name.

          His eyes narrowed at her sweet as honey tone. "Belle, I'm not running an inn. It's bad enough I let Jefferson stay. He's practically moved in." Yet he didn't protest as she led him to stand beside the fire in the Great Hall, ignoring the group in the foyer who watched them with avid interest.

          There was no womanly batting of her eyelashes, no tears, no pouting. Oh, no. Belle was learning very quickly just how to push his buttons. Her eyes were heavily-lidded with desire as she looked up at him adoringly. "No, Belle," he bit out stubbornly, but his heart was no longer into denying her what she wanted.

          "Rumpel," she began, her voice soft and low so as not to be overheard. She in no way wanted to undermine his authority. "It has been years since I have been able to spend time with my friend." She slid her hand up to curl her fingers in his hair, tugging gently and causing him to shudder as heat settled in his loins. "She's running for her life, my love. Would it really be so horrible to have them here for  _one_  night?"

          "Yes," he maintained weakly, feeling his will being bent to hers as she ran her nails over his scalp.

          Belle moved closer and pulled his head down to whisper in his ear. "It would be the hospitable thing to do. You don't always have to be the beast," she purred silkily, her breath causing gooseflesh to erupt on his gold-flecked skin. "It would be the right thing to do." His hands dug into her hips as he pressed her against him. "We could even make a deal if you like."

          "Now you're just playing dirty, dearie," he growled low in his throat.

          "Just one night? I'll even make your favorite dessert to go with the lamb I'm preparing for your dinner. Name your price, Rumpel."

          He glared at the group in the foyer over Belle's shoulder, his eyes narrowed menacingly.  _Damn invaders! His castle was under siege!_ Finally, he looked down into her jewel-bright eyes and his defenses crumbled. "Fine. One night, Belle. Twenty-four hours and not a second longer."

          "Thank you. And your price?"

          She gasped as his mouth took hers in a hungry kiss, an invading kiss. She was breathless when he finally released her. "You'll owe me a favor. A big one." He turned on his heel and left her, stalking off to his wheel to spin and sulk.

 

*.*.*

 

          Snow's eyes widened as she watched Belle. "Charming, what do you think she's telling him?"

          "I don't even want to know. And I certainly don't want to watch," Charming cringed, clearly disgusted with the whole affair.

          Jefferson snorted, downing his wine. "Belle doesn't have to  _say_  anything. All she has to do is look at him with those big blue eyes and he's putty in her hands."

          "I've never seen him look at anyone that way," Snow replied, unable to take her eyes off the couple.

          "Who knew Rumpelstiltskin was even capable of looking at someone in such a way," Charming retorted, still averting his gaze.

          "Did she just pull his hair?" Snow asked, watching with avid interest.

          "Yes, she did, and he _liked_ it," Jefferson chortled.

          Charming groaned in disgust. "Gods! This is just wrong."

          "Shut up, Charming. I think it's very sweet."

          "He is completely wrapped around her little finger. Poor bastard," Jefferson chuckled, grinning at Snow.

          Charming happened a glance into the Great Hall in time to see Rumpelstiltskin feasting upon Belle's lips. His stomach flip-flopped as a wave of nausea hit him. He was wishing he could take his eyeballs out and break out a scrub brush. "Wait a minute. If she's his true love. And I'm assuming she is his true love, because what other woman —"

          Snow smacked him in the shoulder to show her displeasure. "Everyone deserves true love, Charming. You would do well to remember that after what we just went through."

          "Regardless, the question remains. Why didn't true love's kiss break his curse?" he asked, a puzzled frown knitting his brow.

          Jefferson smirked at Snow. "You really know how to pick 'em, Princess." He turned to Charming and began explaining slowly so he wouldn't miss anything. "Rumpel is obsessed with his power. It has to do with his life's work. Don't ask, princeling, because I don't break Rumpelstiltskin's confidences," he said when Charming would have interrupted. "So, in order to make sure he never lost his power, he brewed potions, cast spells and whatever else he had to do to guard himself. Even though he never imagined he would find true love, he had a potion for that, too. There's only one sure way to destroy him and take away his power. And that, friend, is a secret I'll take with me to the grave."

          "You seem to know a lot, hatter," Charming said, thinking he'd underestimated the man.

          Jefferson didn't answer as Belle came back into the foyer and linked her arm through Snow's. "Rumpel has agreed to offer you sanctuary for the night. Then in the morning we'll worry about Regina," Belle beamed happily. "Snow, why don't you come with me to the kitchen and I'll make tea." She glanced over her shoulder at Rumpelstiltskin, who was sitting at his spinning wheel muttering under his breath about people showing up on his doorstep uninvited. "Perhaps he won't be so much of a grump after he's had his tea."

          Snow waited until Belle had led her into the warm kitchen before turning to her friend, full of curiosity and questions only Belle could answer. The smell of roasting lamb hung in the air as Belle went about making tea and preparing a small tray of sandwiches and sweets. "I still can't believe it."

          Belle smiled at Snow over her shoulder as she poured water into the tea pot. "What can't you believe?"

          "I can't believe you're here living with Rumpelstiltskin. He's absolutely awful ... and terrifying. When Charming told me you were here willingly, I didn't believe him," Snow said in a soft voice full of awe.

          Belle sighed and picked up the tea tray, leaving Snow to carry the smaller tray of refreshments. "Come. Let's bring this into the Great Hall and then we'll have a nice chat." When she entered the hall, Jefferson and Charming were deep in conversation, yet Rumpelstiltskin was being his usual unsociable self, concentrating on his spinning and ignoring his guests. Jefferson was used to it, sometimes spending an entire afternoon in companionable silence with the imp.

          She could feel his gaze on her as she set the tea tray on the dining table and set about preparing his cup. And then he was at her side, his hands cradling hers as she held it out to him, his eyes warm as they settled on her face. "Thank you, dearest," he breathed, his voice a velvet caress, unmindful of any who overheard. Her heart fluttered in her chest with the love she felt for him.  _Dearest, not dearie._ She was suddenly feeling his angst at having company. "Will you be joining us?"

          "Ah ... no, Rumpel. I have to see to dinner and the dessert I promised you," she told him, her voice wavering at his closeness.

          Her hands shook slightly under his as he leaned close to whisper, "I could always have you for dessert instead, my dear one."

          "Yes, well ... um, I promised, so …" she stammered, slipping her hands from beneath his and fixing her own cup to carry back with her to the kitchen, a rosy blush rising to settle in the apples of her cheeks. He smiled knowingly as he watched her beat a hasty retreat, Snow on her heels.

          Snow settled herself at the round kitchen table and turned to her friend. "Alright, Belle, spill. I want to know everything."

          Belle sipped her tea, wondering briefly how much she should tell her friend. "When the ogre wars came to Avonlea, I convinced Papa to call for him to help us. After all, we were a rich kingdom, so surely, we could pay any price for his help. Of course, you know Rumpelstiltskin. He's able to turn the tables on any well thought out plan."

          "What do you mean?"

          "He offered his help, but Papa didn't want to pay his price. He thought it was too steep. You see, Rumpel didn't want gold. Why would he when he can spin straw into gold? No, his price was ... me," Belle explained, a smile curving her lips as she remembered him practically dancing with glee as he had dropped that bombshell on the council of elders and her father.

          Snow couldn't hide her gasp of horror. " _You_  were his price?"

          "Indeed. He claimed he needed a caretaker for the castle. But seriously, when have you known Rumpelstiltskin to need anything he can't get through magic? I think he was lonely." She stared down into the contents of her cup, pushing the thought away. "Anyway, Papa refused to pay his exorbitant price. So, I made a deal with him instead."

          "Oh, Belle, you didn't!" Snow exclaimed.

          "I did. I agreed to his terms. I agreed to save my people and my kingdom. How could I be selfish and let everyone perish when he was offering to save everyone if only I would go with him?" She suppressed a shiver as his words from long ago filtered through her mind.  _It's forever, dearie._  "He brought me here and proceeded to toss me into the dungeon until he could decide what to do with me," she laughed.

          "The dungeon? He's got a castle full of bedrooms and he tossed you into the dungeon? Sounds like him," Snow snorted.

          "It wasn't so bad. And my duties as his caretaker weren't anything more than I could handle. He wasn't a very demanding master, he wasn't cruel to me. I'm not saying I wasn't afraid of him – he definitely had his moments - but over time, I realized the stories about him were utter rubbish and we settled into an uneasy friendship."

          Snow leaned her elbows on the table, her gaze focused on Belle, fascinated by her tale. "That doesn't explain —"

          Belle cut her off with another soft laugh. "I'm getting there, Snow. Be patient. I didn't realize I was in love with him until after the ladder incident." She held up her hand to stop Snow's query. "I fell from a ladder in the Great Hall and he caught me. He saved me."

          "Are you sure you weren't just feeling gratitude for him?" Snow asked skeptically.

          "No, Snow. Of course, I was grateful, but that was only a small part of what I was feeling at that moment. I felt as though someone had kicked me in the stomach, it was so powerful. I just knew." She sipped her tea, thinking she still felt the same sensations every time he touched her. Even the most innocent of touches would set her stomach to fluttering wildly. She decided to skip the episode at the lake, when he'd awakened her passion for him. She didn't think that would sit too well with her friend.

          "Did he feel the same way about you?"

          Belle snorted bitterly. "He had convinced himself I couldn't love him, that I couldn't love a beast. He has severe insecurity issues we're working on, but he was steadfast in his convictions. So, he returned me to Avonlea. He returned me to my Papa and to my fiancé, Gaston. I'm not even going to go into the details of that horror. If it hadn't been for Jefferson's aid, I never would have escaped."

          "He let you go," Snow whispered softly, completely absorbed in Belle's tale.

          "He did, and I was furious with him. He was denying his feelings for me and rejecting mine for him. It took me three days to get back to him. When I returned to the castle, I didn't know what to expect. There were really only two possible scenarios. He would either admit his feelings or he'd send me away again, in which I would've just come back. He can be quite stubborn when he doesn't get his way."

          Snow smirked, knowing all too well about stubborn men. "And now?"

          "Now, he's finally accepted I'm not going anywhere. When our deal was struck, he made me promise forever. When he let me go, the deal was voided. So, I struck a new one with him. Now he's stuck with me," Belle said with a calculating smile. "When you love someone as much as I love Rumpel, you don't give up on something like that."

          Snow sat back and crossed her arms over her chest, shaking her head worriedly. "You have no idea the danger you've put yourself in, Belle."

          "What do you mean?" Belle asked, a troubled frown marring her perfect brow. "Rumpel would never hurt me."

          "After seeing him with you, I have no doubt. But when word spreads of his ... association … with you, his enemies won't hesitate to use you against him. And being the Dark One, you can bet he has  _a lot_  of enemies. You will be his weakness."

          Belle's gaze showed not a hint of fear as she met her friend's eyes. "No, Snow. I will be his strength."


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter contains adult situations … reader discretion is advised.

          The smell of peaches was overwhelming in the Dark Castle, creeping tendrils of fragrant aroma wafting from the direction of the kitchen. His Belle was baking peach tarts. Not the delectable cobbler he favored, but heavenly deliciousness nonetheless. The wheel stilled under Rumpelstiltskin's hand, his eyes closing in rapture as the scent tickled his nose. His Belle smelled like peaches. Peaches and roses and something unmistakably her, and the scent was making him crave more than her delectable desserts.

          He could easily slip off to the kitchen to have a peek at her progress. He doubted his guests would notice.  _Guests! Ack! More like interlopers on my solitude. Well, except for Jefferson. I'm used to him being here._  He rose from the wheel and padded across the hall, casting a threatening glare at Charming as he passed. The princeling looked as though he were sitting on a bed of thorns instead of the nice comfortable sofa. Good! He didn't need the man getting too relaxed in his home.

          Belle was entirely too soft-hearted for  _his_  own good. It's who she was; good, sweet, kind and loving. She wanted to help everyone without wanting anything in return. It was just unnatural to his way of thinking. He didn't want people in his home, damnit! He wanted time alone with her. They'd just discovered their love for each other and he wanted to explore all the possibilities to the fullest. How was he supposed to do that with Charming glaring at him in righteous indignation, his eyes accusing him of debauchery? Although having gotten a whiff of the peaches, he was more than up for a little debauching of his lovely Belle.

          Belle and Snow were bent over the work table, cleaning up a mess of sugar and flour when he stole into the room and propped a shoulder against the wall to watch her. "Once this is cleaned up, I'll show you to the washroom where you can get cleaned up and changed for dinner. I'll have to ask Rumpel which rooms you and Charming may use."

          "They can always use your old room downstairs, dearest," he said from the doorway, a wicked smile curving one side of his mouth.

          Belle swung around and glared at him for sneaking up on her again. "I will not put my friend in the dungeon, Rumpel," she protested.

          "Not serious," he giggled, moving into the room and following his nose to the worktable where a large tray of the delectable tarts sat cooling. She rapped his knuckles with a wooden spoon as he reached for one.

          "No dessert until after dinner. You're not filling up on sweets after all the work I've put into our meal," she scolded, ignoring the narrowing of his eyes.

          Snow's mouth fell open, recognizing that look from previous dealings with the imp. "Uh ... Belle —" She was suddenly afraid for her friend.

          Without looking at her, Rumpelstiltskin waved his hand toward the door, a subtle hint for Snow to run along. "We dress for dinner, dearie. So off you go now, to prepare yourself. Belle and I have things to ... discuss." He was steadily stalking Belle around the work table, a predatory gleam in his amber eyes.

          "Um ... she doesn't know where to go. We wouldn't want her to get lost," Belle breathed nervously, her heart rate increasing in her excitement.

          "Ask Jefferson to show you and the shepherd where the wash room is and then have him escort you up to Belle's bedroom. There you will find appropriate clothing for dinner. I'll even be kind enough to return the shepherd's boots to him if you will leave ... now."

          Snow was torn between helping her friend and the offer of a hot bath. The bath won out as she watched Belle bait the beast stalking her. Who was she to get between them when it was most definitely unwanted? She turned on her heel and left the kitchen to search out Jefferson.

          Belle stopped her evasive steps, a sultry smile on her lips as he slipped his arms around her, pinning her to his chest. He reached out to her with one long finger and scooped up a dollop of peach puree from her collarbone before bringing it to his lips. "I guess I'm a messy baker," she purred next to his ear. She gasped as he bent his head and ran his tongue over the patch of skin, removing the last trace of peach from her skin.

          "I think I found a new dessert, my love," he murmured against the soft skin of her throat as his lips burned a fiery trail to her ear. His hands ghosted down over her breasts to her waist and over her hips before slipping to cup her behind and press her firmly to his burgeoning erection.

          "Did you want to put those two in the same ... Gods!" Jefferson yelled as he came into the kitchen, quickly covering his eyes with a hand. "There are bedrooms aplenty in this place for this sort of thing. Rum. She prepares food in this room!"

          Rumpelstiltskin laughed softly against the curve of her neck. He could feel the blush rise beneath her alabaster skin. "Did you need something, hatter?" he asked as Belle squirmed out of his embrace to remove the last tray of tarts from the oven.

          Jefferson peeked between his fingers to make sure they were decent. He smirked at Rumpelstiltskin. "You want the prince and Snow in the same room? Snow mentioned something about Belle's old room."

          Rumpelstiltskin snorted and leaned a hip against the work table, his eyes fixed on the lovely swell of Belle's behind as she bent to retrieve the pastries. "I was all for letting them sleep in the dungeon, but my lady objected." He thought for a moment about how hard it had been at the beginning to keep his hands off Belle and a wicked grin lifted the corners of his mouth. A giggle escaped his lips as he turned his gaze back to Jefferson. "Put them  _both_  in Belle's room."

          "Shame on you," Belle chastised. "I'm going to take a bath and change for dinner." She gave him a quick kiss as she passed on her way out of the kitchen. "Try to behave, darling."

          "You know, Rum, Belle may bring out the best in you, but there's still plenty bad," Jefferson grinned, he too leaving the kitchen to carry out his task.

 

*.*.*

 

          Rumpelstiltskin rose from his spinning wheel as the double doors to the Great Hall opened to admit Belle, her arm linked with Snow's, the princeling following behind them. He was pleased she seemed to be enjoying her time with her childhood friend, but he couldn't help the selfish thought of wishing to have her to himself.

          He bowed gallantly before them and took Belle's hand in his, twirling her before him so he could take in her appearance from all sides. Snow White, having been dubbed the fairest of them all, paled in comparison next to his little beauty. Snow was lovely in her lavender gown with her hair piled into ringlets atop her head.  _It's about time someone took a brush to that head of hers._  But Belle was a vision in the ice blue silk which swathed her curvy frame, her hair flowing down to the small of her back, pinned just at the temples.

          "You are simply radiant, my dearest," he murmured softly, his amber eyes glowing warmly as he brushed his lips to the back of her hand. Belle felt the heat rise to her face as she pressed her cheek to his, basking in his praise. She would have remained in his arms indefinitely had Charming not cleared his throat, drawing her attention to the fact they did indeed have guests.

          "Rumpel, if you'll excuse me for a moment, I'll run to the kitchen to fetch our meal."

          "No need," he smiled, waving his hand with a flourish. The meal she had prepared appeared on the dining table on large silver salvers ready for serving. "You were kind enough to prepare the meal, the least I could do was serve it. You're not my maid any longer, Belle. You're my —" He paused, a frown knitting his brow. What was she really? His mistress? No, he'd never defile her with that title. His lover? Certainly, but he didn't want to announce it to the entire gathering. What he really wanted to call her was his wife.  _Where did that thought come from?_  He had sworn never to make that mistake again, the horrible state of matrimony. But with Belle, he could see her in that role,  _wanted_  her in that role in his life. The realization nearly floored him.

          "Rumpel, are you alright?" she asked, watching the color drain from his face. "You look a little greener than usual. Are you ill?"

          Her softly uttered words snapped his mind back away from his ponderings and he shook his head. "Fine, fine." He led her to the table and pulled the chair out for her to sit at his right before claiming the chair at the head of the table.

          Jefferson took the chair to his left and Charming seated Snow next to Belle before taking the chair to Jefferson's left. The prince still hadn't lost that wary look he'd been wearing since setting foot in the Dark Castle. He looked uneasily at the food on his plate. It was peasant fare Belle had prepared, for the simple reason that Rumpelstiltskin didn't care for fancy dishes. Their meal was roasted lamb and herbed potatoes and asparagus from their garden.

          Rumpelstiltskin frowned down at his plate. "Belle, where's the bacon? You always wrap the asparagus in bacon. How am I supposed to eat these without it?"

          Belle chuckled behind her napkin, amused at the plaintive tone in his voice. She leaned closer to him and lowered her voice. "If you hadn't been wallowing in self-pity for the six days I was gone, you would've realized you needed to visit the butcher. It's your own fault your blasted asparagus isn't wrapped in bacon."

          He scowled at her and shoved the offending vegetable into his mouth, only then realizing his guests were staring at him. He simply raised his brow imperiously at them as if to silently ask,  _What the hell are you gawking at?_  Jefferson ignored them all, happy to be eating Belle's splendid cooking once more. Charming was poking his portion of lamb with his fork with a grimace. Snow kicked him under the table and glared at him for being rude. Rumpelstiltskin smiled smugly at the pair before turning his attention to Belle who was drinking from her goblet of wine like she had been traipsing through a desert and was starved for water.

          He polished off the rest of his lamb and sat back in his chair, sipping his wine, his eyes settling on her.  _Oh, my sweet love, you are going to pay dearly for this little dinner party,_ he thought, a wicked smile upon his lips. Belle's eyes swung to his, wide and unblinking.  _Heard that, did you?_  She'd had too much wine, apparently, otherwise he wouldn't have been able to slip into her thoughts so easily. She took another sip of her wine and returned her gaze to her plate. Oh, this party was about to get fun.

          He ran the toe of his boot up the back of her calf, causing her to jump and bang her knee on the table. "Are you alright, Belle?" Snow asked, setting her fork down and turning to her friend in concern.

          Belle narrowed her eyes on Rumpelstiltskin, blue fire flashing in their depths. "Cramp," she answered Snow without turning to her. She picked up the plate of peach tarts and thrust it at him. "Have a tart, Rumpel," she gritted out through clenched teeth, the tight set of her mouth telling him clearly to behave himself. Why was he doing this to her? He was completely throwing propriety right out the window. She might be enjoying it if it hadn't been for their guests. She glanced over at Jefferson. He looked like he was about to choke as he tried to stifle his laughter at the two of them.

          "Belle, are you even listening?" Snow asked with a puzzled frown.

          Belle bit down on the inside of her lip as his boot trailed from knee to ankle. Her blush deepened, but she maintained her composure, turning to Snow, her smile overly bright. "I'm sorry, Snow, what were you saying?" Rumpelstiltskin took advantage of her distraction and refilled her wine glass.

          "I was asking where you acquired your cooking skills. I don't remember you having a fondness for culinary pursuits."

          "Um ... I, uh, had to ... learn rather quickly when ... when I was brought here." She kicked him under the table, earning a giggle in the process.  _So, Rumpel, you think this is funny! Just you wait!_  "Rumpel's cooking isn't fit for human consumption. I had to learn or starve." He shot her a wounded look.

She hazarded a glance at Jefferson. Tears were rolling down his reddened face. “Jeff, are you alright?”

          He coughed and slammed his fist into the center of his chest.  “Think I got a bit of pepper.”

          Charming looked a little dazed, trying his best to follow the unspoken battle between her and the sorcerer. Snow looked uncomfortable as she tried to engage Belle in small talk, refusing to give up on the idea of a normal evening.

_This is what you get when we can't have two seconds alone together, Belle. We could have taken the tarts upstairs to our chamber. I could have slathered the filling all over that delectable body of yours and had you for dessert, my siren._

          A sound, resembling a squeak, issued forth from her lips as she turned to meet his gaze. "Stop that," she mouthed silently, to which he merely gave a slight shake of his head.

          Rumpelstiltskin turned his attention to Charming and asked, "Where are you taking Snow when you leave here tomorrow?" he asked, his gaze unwavering on the prince, but his mind still on Belle.  _Especially that little spot at the top of your thigh, dear one. You know that thing you like me to do with my tongue._

          Belle shot straight up out of her chair, startling Snow into tipping her wine over. The dark rivulets crept across the table to end up in Charming's lap.

          "Oh, I'm so sorry, your highness," she apologized. She cast a fulminating glare at Rumpelstiltskin as he vanished away the mess and rose with her. "Snow, would you care to take some air with me? You should really see our rose garden. It's quite lovely in the moonlight," she said, forcing her voice to be steady. "I'm certain our gentlemen will join us once Rumpel has cleared the table." She quirked a brow at him, daring him to utter one sound of protest.

          His giggle followed them out the door, causing her to grind her teeth. She definitely needed air after that debacle. She'd never again be able to sit at the table without thinking of his voice whispering across her mind. She glanced over her shoulder to find Jefferson trailing behind them, his eyes alight with laughter.

          Snow continued to stare at her quizzically. "Are you certain you're alright, Belle? You look a little flustered."

          "Oh, she's fine," Jefferson chuckled. "It's just somewhat of a challenge living with a mischievous imp sometimes."

          Belle sighed. Truer words had never been spoken.

 

*.*.*

 

          Snow curled up against Charming's side in the massive four-poster bed and fought back a yawn. "Would you just please try to relax?" she asked, draping her arm about his waist.

          The prince glanced down at her and ran an irritated hand through his close-cropped hair. "How am I supposed to relax with all the noise from down the hall?" The sound of breaking glass filled his ears and he sat up, reaching for his sword propped against the nightstand.

          Snow pressed her hand to the center of his chest and pushed him back against the pillows. "Leave it, Charming. She's not yours to rescue."

          "What if she needs to be rescued, Snow? This  _is_  Rumpelstiltskin we're talking about," he argued.

          Snow grimaced as Belle's scream ripped down the corridor. She heard a door open further down the corridor, followed by footsteps and a pounding on Rumpelstiltskin's door. "Would you two kiss and make up already. You have guests, for the sake of the gods." They heard said door open, and what sounded like a threat about snails before the door was slammed shut in Jefferson's face. "Stop worrying, Charming. Belle can handle Rumpelstiltskin."

          "Well she's clearly fighting a losing battle." Something slammed into the door across the hall, sending a portrait crashing to the stone floor. "That didn't sound good."

          "Don't even think about it," Snow warned as he moved to get out of bed once more. "True love is not going to come without its difficulties, Charming. You took an arrow last time we had a spat."

          "Is that what you call it? A spat?" he snorted, lying back against the pillows once more as the noise ceased. He closed his eyes and pulled his own true love closer to his side, willing himself to relax. "What was that?"

          Snow rolled over and pulled a pillow over her head. "That sounded like a moan ... Belle, I think.” A throaty moan and what sounded like Belle's name … "And that sounded like Rumpelstiltskin."

          "Oh, my gods," Charming groaned. "I am going to be sick. This is absolutely the last time we ask that imp for help."

          Snow chuckled and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "Uh-huh," she whispered doubtfully. "Go to sleep, Charming."

 

*.*.*

 

          "I cannot believe you did that!" Belle yelled through the locked washroom door.

          Rumpelstiltskin knocked again from the other side of the barrier. "Please, dearest, I was only having a little fun. Don't be angry with me."

          She could hear from his tone he was trying not to laugh, which only infuriated her further. "I have never been so embarrassed. Why did you have to make me look like a fool in front of my friend?"

          "I thought you said the worst you'd ever been embarrassed was when the vanishing potion misfired and left you standing naked in the middle of the library wearing nothing but a blush."

          Belle dropped the crystal jewelry box in her hands to the marble floor and watched it shatter.  _Damn!_  "You promised never to speak of that ever again, Rumpel," she shrieked. She could have died right then, standing there in the library in all her glory, his eyes glued to her breasts. She shuddered at the wave of embarrassment which flooded her at the memory.

          He used magic to open the door at the sound of breaking glass, intent on making sure she hadn't hurt herself. He repaired her jewelry box and handed it to her. She poked him in the chest with a dainty finger, and he grabbed her upper arms, returning her glare.

          "I'm sorry. I took advantage of you in a weak moment. I'm apologizing, Belle," he said softly, pulling her closer. He didn't want her to be angry. He finally had her to himself, and wanted nothing more to crawl into their bed and worship her with his body.

          She pushed away from him and stalked into the bedroom. She stopped between their small sitting area and the raised dais the bed rested upon, crossing her arms across her ample bosom and glaring at him as he stopped beside her. She opened her mouth to blast him again when pounding erupted against the door and Jefferson shouting something about making up, so they could all get some sleep.

          Rumpelstiltskin had just opened his mouth to counter whatever it was she'd been about to say. He snapped it shut and walked to the door, throwing it open and glaring at the hatter. "Did you learn nothing last time I changed you into a snail, hatter? Next time you will end up as a gooey mess beneath my boot!" he hissed furiously, slamming the door in Jefferson's face and turning to face Belle once more.

          "Lovely, Rumpel. Now everyone is listening to our argument." She stalked to the dresser and removed her nightgown, pulling off her shift and donning the flimsy garment, the hem hitting her mid-thigh.

          Rumpelstiltskin's mouth went dry as he watched the silk settle over her hips. "Where are your undergarments? Are you saying you didn't have a stitch on under your gown all evening?"

          Belle turned to face him warily, something in his voice, that low husky tone sending a shiver down her spine. She looked closely to see his eyes darkening to a burnished bronze. "You ... You have ... uh ... ripped them all," she mumbled nervously, backing away from him slowly. It was then her anger cooled, and she noticed he was wearing nothing but his cotton sleeping pants which ended just below his knee, all that lovely gold-flecked skin exposed for her viewing pleasure. She'd provoked the beast and now she was going to have to suffer the consequences.

          "I'll be sure to replace them, dearie," he promised, prowling towards her slowly around the sofa as she inched toward the door. He rubbed his hands together in anticipation, knowing she wouldn't reach the door before he could get his hands on her.

          Belle sprinted for the door, her hand closing over the handle. And then he was at her back, his nails scraping up the outsides of her thighs and over her hips, his arousal pressing into the small of her back, instantly igniting a flame of desire in the pit of her stomach and drawing a deep moan from her throat. She shuddered as his hand delved under the hem of her negligee, slipping one long finger inside, her tight wet walls closing around him.

          "You're not running from me, are you, my little Belle?" he growled against her ear, his lips trailing to the curve of her neck. She cried out as his teeth bit down on the sensitive flesh. She shook her head fiercely, incapable of speech as she bucked her hips against his hand. He turned her around in his arms and she cried out at the loss of contact. His lips took hers in a hungry kiss, his tongue searching out every crevice of her mouth as he lifted her in his arms and wrapped her legs about his waist. He beat the beast back with sheer force of will, unwilling to hurt her, but also, unable to stop. "Don't ask me to stop, love, please," he begged, his voice raspy as he pulled back to look into her eyes.

          She threaded her hand in his hair, her other trailing over his stomach to the ties of his breeches, pulling at the drawstring until they dropped to pool around his ankles. "Don't you dare stop," she breathed against his lips, wrapping her hand around his throbbing member and guiding him to her opening. Her back slammed heavily into the solid oak door as he thrust into her. She'd worry about the crash she heard when she was again capable of coherent thought. It just didn't matter, nothing mattered except the man in her arms and the pleasure he gave her.

          Belle brought her legs higher and pressed her feet into the small of his back, using the door for leverage, causing him to go deeper, his thrusts harder as she edged closer to her climax. "Belle ... I love you," he growled against her ear, and it was enough to make her come undone around him. He followed behind her, holding her tightly as he dropped to his knees, her body still wrapped around him, her breath coming in ragged pants against his neck. He pulled back to look at her, cupping her face in his hand. "Are you alright? Did I hurt you?"

          She brushed the hair away from his eyes, noticing they'd gone from black to warm amber once again. "I love you, too, Rumpel."

          He grinned roguishly at her and cleaned them up with a little magic before carrying her up the few steps to their bed. He laid her down gently and crawled in after her, pulling her to his side and covering them with the duvet. He pressed a kiss to her crown and relaxed around her, feeling the pull of sleep.

          "Rumpel?" she asked after a long yawn.

          "Hmm?"

          "We should fight more often."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This is my longest chapter yet. I hope ya'll enjoyed it. Please let me know what you think.


	17. Chapter 17

          Rumpelstiltskin's arms tightened around her waist as she moved carefully to the edge of the bed. "Where are you going?" he breathed against her neck, sending goosebumps dancing merrily across her flesh. He buried his nose in her chestnut locks, breathing her in and exhaling on a deep sigh of contentment. "Too early, dear one. Come back to bed." To make sure she obeyed his command, he half covered her with his body and threw his leg over both of hers, effectively trapping her in his embrace.

          "Darling? You're squishing me," she mumbled, struggling lightly against him and chuckling at his antics.

          He pressed his lips against her shoulder, his tongue darting out to taste her. "But I have also cut off your escape route." His hand drifted down her side and settled over her hip, giving it a light squeeze. "Why don't we just spend the day in bed, you and I?"

          She was relieved when he lessened the pressure on her body, giving her the space she needed to roll over in his arms and nestle against his chest, tucking her head under his chin and wrapping her arm around his waist. "As much as I would love to spend the day in bed with you," she said, pressing a kiss to his neck, "we have guests to see off this morning. And I, for one, would love to have tea before I have to say goodbye to them." He claimed her lips in a lingering kiss which left her gasping and breathless before letting her go with a sigh. Rising with her to dress for the day, he smiled secretly as she opened her wardrobe with a startled cry. "Oh, Rumpel, what did you do?"

          He smirked as he waved his hand and changed into a dark blue silk shirt and black brocade vest, along with his ever-favored black leather pants and knee-high boots. "Well, dearest, I can't have you running about the castle in my nightshirts. Especially, when you don't know who might pop in."

          Belle swatted at him playfully and removed a day dress from the wardrobe made from a soft beige muslin with embroidered roses along the skirt. Her wardrobe looked as though he'd raided a dress shop, but the roses had drawn her attention to this one. There were shoes and underthings and a drawer full of accessories to match any dress she might wish to wear. She slipped her feet into a pair of beige slippers and moved to his side, wrapping her arms around his neck and twining her fingers into the hair at his nape. "You've always been so good to me," she breathed, brushing her lips to his. "Even when you didn't know what to do with me."

          He dropped his gaze to her shoulder as he replied, "I ... you deserve better. You deserve more than an old beast like me."

          She gripped his chin in her hand, forcing his gaze back to her. "I love my beast. He's a part of you and I  _love_  all of you. You need to stop being afraid I'm going to change my mind, Rumpel." She kissed him once more and took his hand in hers, leading him out the door and into the corridor.

          "Belle, you don't know the horrible things I've done in my past. There's every possibility once I've told you everything, you'll run screaming mad from the castle," he said dejectedly as he followed her down the stairs.

          "Rumpel, I do want to know about your past, but it's not going to change the way I feel about you. When you decide to tell me ... when  _you're_  ready, I will listen with an open heart. You will then put all your past deeds behind you and  _we_  will move forward. Together."

          Rumpelstiltskin didn't know what to say to that. He could only stare down at her in awe. He didn't understand how she could be so optimistic, so caring and loving. He had taken her from everything and everyone she loved and brought her to the Dark Castle on a whim, never considering her feelings and taking advantage of her desire to help her people.

          She'd brought light and joy into his darkness and it had scared the hell out of him. So much, in fact, he'd repeatedly rejected the idea he'd fallen in love with her. But he knew now he couldn't live without her. To him, she was more necessary than the air he breathed. He reveled in her love. He desired nothing more than her happiness, and he could only pray she would hold true to her word and his past wouldn't drive her away from him. He  _would_  be a better man ... for his Belle.

          And apparently, he would have to start with Snow and her princeling, he thought with a scowl. He wouldn't be able to just toss them out on their rears. Belle wouldn't be pleased. So, he fought against his nature and accepted the tea cup Belle offered, wondering how he could help them without Regina's knowledge. After all, she had a purpose in his master plan. Everything must play out as he'd foreseen for his goals to be achieved, but Belle didn't need to know about that just yet.

          He turned to cast a malevolent stare at Charming. The shepherd turned prince was lounging on the sofa sipping tea and looked like he hadn't had a wink of sleep. "Rough night, Shepherd?" he asked, his giggle trilling throughout the Great Hall. He could feel Belle's eyes boring into his back, but he chose to ignore it.

          Snow hesitantly stepped to his side, forever and always the perfect little princess. "Actually, Rumpelstiltskin, we had a very restful night and thank you for your hospitality," she said rather formally.

          "For you maybe," Charming mumbled under his breath. Snow cast him a withering look.

          The sorcerer narrowed his gaze on her, searching for weaknesses. "You will not make it to your destination without help, dearie." Snow blanched, the color draining from her face.

          "How do you know that?" she asked warily, her brow furrowing.

          Rumpelstiltskin shot her a look which clearly said,  _Are you kidding me?_  "Regina's forces are too thick in the area. You could either wait it out here," he shook his head mockingly. "Or I can take you where you want to go." He was really putting himself out there. And it was all Belle's fault. If word got around he was doing good deeds, it would completely destroy his reputation. Not to mention the ribbing he'd be forced to take from the queen. He shuddered at the thought.

          "Out of the question," Charming chimed in, totally repulsed by the idea of the Dark One knowing the location of their camp.

          Belle stood at the end of the long dining table watching them all curiously, impressed by Rumpelstiltskin's offer. She intercepted Snow's gaze and nodded her head, encouraging her to trust him. "I don't —"

          Rumpelstiltskin cut her off with a raised hand. "I'm merely offering you transportation, dearie. It will keep you away from Regina for a bit longer and it will cut days from your trip."

          "What do you want, Rumpelstiltskin? What's your price?" Snow asked, regarding him with trepidation. He wasn't his usual gleeful self and he'd only giggled twice this morning. He had to have an ulterior motive. He couldn't be doing this out of the goodness of his heart, seeing the Dark One had no heart. She wanted to follow her friend's advice, but she still couldn't bring herself to trust him.

          He circled around her, tapping one long finger to his chin. Finally, he leaned in close to whisper, "Don't get caught."

          "What?" Snow asked incredulously.

          "I didn't stutter, dearie. Don't. Get. Caught," he said, exasperated with the lot. "Belle, say your goodbyes. I'm certain our guests are ready to depart." From the way Charming jumped up off the sofa, he knew he was spot on with that estimation. He set his cup on the tea tray and strode to the door to wait. He looked about the Great Hall, his impatience growing by the second and wondered where the hatter was hiding.

          Snow hugged Belle warmly. "I'm so happy you're well. Thank you so much for having us, Belle."

          Belle beamed at her friend. "Remember what I said, alright? Please take care of each other. And write to me," she called after her friend as Snow walked to the door and took Rumpelstiltskin's hand.

          The mage grabbed the collar of Charming's jacket. "Destination?" he asked irritably, his stomach protesting over his missed breakfast.

          "South Marne," Charming said in a clipped tone.

          Rumpelstiltskin concentrated, closing his eyes and disappearing in a puff of maroon and purple smoke.

 

*.*.*

 

 _Well. Just. Shit! This is what I get for trying to be a better man? Home wrecking FUCKING FAIRIES!_  He could still see the village of South Marne, its quaint huts and the tiny market everyone seemed to flock to. What he hadn't expected, was to be attacked with fairy magic the moment the smoke cleared. He'd waived his price. After centuries of deal making, he'd waived his price. For Belle. He'd fought back the beast and broken his own rule, his centuries-old rule, for her. All so she could see he was trying, for her.

          Now, he stood before them, immobilized in a haze of blue fairy magic, the beast snarling and clawing to escape. The thought of Belle, alone at the Dark Castle with only his wards and Jefferson for protection, made his stomach churn with anxiety. The queen's threat hung like a pendulum of doom over his head and he was powerless to do anything about it.

          Rumpelstiltskin turned the full power of his fulminating glare upon Snow White. "Well, dearie? Did you ask the flying jellyfish here to do this? Were your sweet little promises of friendship to my Belle just a pretense to lure me out?" he asked, his lip curling into a feral snarl.

          The Blue Fairy turned her eyes to Snow, disbelief evident on her face. "How could you have brought him here? He is allied with the queen, your highness. We will have to move your base of operations ... again," she raged.

          Snow ducked her head, heat rising in her face, but whether from anger or shame, he couldn't tell. "Let him go, Blue," she said calmly, gathering her breeding around her like a cloak and becoming a leader once more. She held up a hand for silence when Charming opened his mouth to protest.

          Blue's lips parted in shock and disbelief. "You can't be serious, your highness. He is the Dark One, evil incarnate. How could you —"

          "Rumpelstiltskin helped us when no one else would. Now release him!" she commanded, daring the fairy to disobey her. After all, Snow was still their leader in the campaign to unseat Regina and the fairy was bound by her word to follow her. "Now, Blue." She turned to face the imp. "I did not plan this, Rumpelstiltskin. I could never betray Belle by bringing harm to you," she said, imploring him to believe her.

          "Who is Belle?" he fairy asked, confusion knitting her brow. "Another innocent who has to suffer his evil?"

          Rumpelstiltskin bristled at that. "She's mine and that's all you need to know," he snapped, continuing to fight against the magical restraint.

          The Blue Fairy gave Snow an I-told-you-so glare. "You couldn't have tried to free her while you were in his lair?"

          Snow sighed in frustration at having her command ignored. "Look, Belle chose to be with him. There is no rescuing her, and if we did by some miracle breach his protection spells on the castle, she would just find some way of returning to him. She  _loves_  him. Leave it alone, Blue, and release him."

          Rheul Ghorm was aghast in light of this new development and she stared at Rumpelstiltskin in horror. "You've bewitched her, haven't you?"

          He quirked a brow at her and let the corners of his mouth lift in a smirk. "Really, dearie? You're older than I am. I would think you would know the rules by now." He giggled, the shrill sound echoing through the forest at the edge of the village. "You cannot use magic to raise the dead nor can you enchant anyone to fall in love with you. Would you like to guess again? Or better yet, stay the hell out of my personal affairs!"

          Blue gasped in horror at his harshness. "You don't really want me to release him, do you?" she asked, her eyes pleading as they fell on Snow.

          "Yes, I do," she said, her tone brooking no objection.

          Rumpelstiltskin eyed Snow White with satisfaction. If everything went according to his master plan, she would indeed make a fine queen. Someday. "What I've done, I did for her. Do not call on me again," he warned as she turned away and began descending the path which led to the village, Charming following in her wake.

          He could feel the effects of the fairy magic leaving him as he turned his attention back to the fairy. As the last of it left him, the power of his magic took hold of him once more. Before she could take her leave, he conjured a fireball into his hand and tossed it at her. She flicked her wand and it rebounded on him as he disappeared into the ether.

 

*.*.*

 

          Belle stared down at the book in her lap, the words blurring into one another. She'd pulled a chair over to the hearth in the Great Hall and settled down into it with her favorite throw and a book. But her mind wouldn't let her concentrate on the print. She was uneasy about Rumpelstiltskin's absence.

          He should have returned to her by now and she couldn't help but worry. Snow was in trouble up to her ears and she didn't want him to get pulled into it along with her. The little bandit princess may be her friend, but Rumpelstiltskin was her ... everything. She stared into the fire, her mind whirling as she listened to the crackle of the flames and the soft snoring coming from the sofa across the room where Jefferson dozed.

          So, it came as a bit of a shock to her when the double doors opened and a snarling voice reached her ears. "Where is she?!"

          Jefferson snorted and rolled off the sofa, coming to his feet swiftly and staring bleary-eyed in the direction of the voice. He schooled his features into a mask of boredom as he approached her and brushed his lips to her hand. "Ah, your majesty," he began, his voice dripping with unconcealed sarcasm. He knew there would be hell to pay when the Dark One returned to find her in his hall. "Selling your wares of plagues ... warts ... boils and other such nastiness?"

          Regina snatched her hand away from Jefferson with a look of undisguised disgust curling her ruby lips. "Enough, hatter. Where is Snow White?"

          Belle was unable to stop the small chuckle which escaped her lips, drawing Regina's attention to her. Jefferson closed his eyes in anguish. It had taken Belle so long to lose her fear of Rumpelstiltskin, finding her courage once she was assured of her love for him. He would do anything for her, be anything for her, because he loved her. He would never hurt her.

          But this was different. Regina had been trained by Rumpelstiltskin and was powerful in her own right. But where Rumpelstiltskin was bound to love her and protect her because of his feelings for her, Regina had no such reservations and would take great pleasure in harming Belle. Because in so doing, she would ultimately be harming the imp. Which was her goal, after all.

          Regina's eyes narrowed at the sound of Belle's tinkling laugh, following it to the chair upon which she sat and trailing her blood-red nails along the high back. Her voice was honey-sweet and full of hidden venom as she leaned close to Belle. "Ah, Rumpel's new pet." She edged slowly around the chair to gaze down at the girl. "Tell me,  _pet._  How much could you care for a man who ripped you away from your family and made you his slave?"

          The only sign of Belle's sudden anger was the fisting of her hands where they rested upon her lap. Her sweet smile, which didn't quite match the fury in her eyes, never faltered. "Hmm. How would Rumpelstiltskin put it?" She tapped one delicate finger to her lips, drawing out the moment. "I believe he would say ... 'That's none of your concern ... dearie'."

          "Why you little —" The rest of the queen's words were drowned out by the noise Rumpelstiltskin was making as he suddenly reappeared, battling the flames licking at his shirt sleeves, knocking Regina to the floor in the process. Belle lurched from her seat, knocking him to the floor and covering him with the blanket, which had moments before been covering her lap. Jefferson rushed forward to help, but Rumpelstiltskin waved him away, his eyes drawn to Belle's frightened face.

          "What happened to you?" Belle cried in alarm, waving her hand at the smoke rising from his charred and singed clothes, the acrid smell burning her nose. "Were you attacked?" she asked, offering him a hand to rise. She ignored Regina as the queen struggled to rise in the tight floor-length sheath dress she wore.

          "Fucking fairies," he cursed, holding utterly still while Belle searched him for burns. "See, Belle, this is what happens when I try to be ...  _nice_ ," he sneered with a shudder, wondering how the word had even sneaked into his vast vocabulary.

          Regina watched them with growing interest. He actually cared for this little wisp of a girl. It was unbelievable,  _inconceivable_  even, that the most feared, most loathed, most evil man in all the realms had succumbed to true love.  _Yech!_  The thought was positively ghastly. Did he not know this girl would be his downfall? And at her hands, no less. Destroying him would be almost as fun as having her revenge on that simpering snowflake, as Mal was fond of calling Snow White. It took everything in her to refrain from rubbing her hands together in anticipation.

          Belle placed her hands on her hips, a sure sign of her displeasure and raised her brows at him. "And I'm certain you did nothing to provoke said fairy, hmm?" she asked dryly, her lips drawing into a smirk.

          "Well," he drawled with a grimace. He held his thumb and forefinger closely together. "Maybe just a wee bit." He let Belle turn his head from side to side and poke through the many holes of his shirt to assess the damage, only then giving his attention to the queen. "Why are  _you_ here, Regina?"

          The queen narrowed her eyes on the imp, a malicious sneer on her face as the purpose of her visit was recalled. "Snow White. A little bird told me  _you_  were harboring her and that sniveling prince of hers."

          "Really, dearie? And why would I do such a thing?" he asked mockingly. He didn't like it that Belle's hands had begun to tremble, and she was refusing to meet his gaze.

          Jefferson casually poured himself a cup of tea and drew Belle's attention with a wink. "Belle, sweetheart, have you seen anyone odd in the castle? A prince, a princess ... maybe the March Hare?"

          Belle turned her head away from them to hide her smile. Jefferson was making a fool of Regina with no fear of retribution; confident Rumpelstiltskin wouldn't allow the queen's wrath in his home. "Uh ... No, Jefferson, I can't say as I have. It's not often we have visitors to the Dark Castle."

          Regina regarded Rumpelstiltskin's inscrutable expression with one of her own. Finally saying, "Very well. Apparently, my sources were misinformed." She turned on her heel to go, only to be stopped short with a firm grip on her upper arm.

          "Continue with your plans, Regina, and do not deviate from them," Rumpelstiltskin warned, drawing close to her, his breath hot on her face. "You will ultimately get what you want."

          Regina suppressed a shudder, forced to believe him, knowing his foresight had yet to be wrong. She jerked her arm free and spared only one loathsome glance for the hatter before she took her leave.

          "She's going to be trouble," Jefferson said with a weary sigh.

          Rumpelstiltskin dropped into the chair earlier vacated by Belle, closing his eyes as he pulled her onto his lap. He stroked his long fingers through her unbound hair and breathed a sigh of contentment. "There's very little Regina can do to me or those under my protection. But she has a purpose in which she  _cannot_  fail. Otherwise, I would've gotten rid of her ages ago."

          "You need her. Why?" Belle asked, unable to hide the small tremor of fear in her voice. Because she had never asked him about any of his deals or schemes, she didn't know how he would react. His moods were so mercurial, she was afraid to push, but she couldn't take back the words already spoken.

          His eyes opened, a deep warm amber filled with contemplation. She'd been so open, so loving, giving everything of himself. He knew in his heart he could trust her with his life, his secrets, his heart and he knew it was time to come clean and tell her everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I'm sorry this took so long. I knew what I wanted for this chapter to move the storyline forward, but I was having difficulty putting it down on paper. This chapter is not one of my favorites, but I really hope you guys are not disappointed. Please let me know what you think. xoxoxo


	18. Chapter 18

          The library was silent as a tomb as Jefferson entered it on silent feet, letting the quiet soothe his frazzled nerves. Those two argued as much as they loved, he thought irritably. Rumpelstiltskin had enchanted the Dark Castle to do the mundane chores Belle had done for the past year.

          And that's when the fight started ...

          He didn't want her to think of herself as a caretaker any longer. And the poor imp couldn't understand her upset. "But, Belle," he'd said pleadingly. "You aren't my caretaker anymore, dearest. You don't need to do those things when the castle can do it for you. I want you to have more time to do things you enjoy." If Rumpelstiltskin hadn't waggled his eyebrows suggestively and followed it with his maniacal giggle, Jefferson thought, she might not have gotten so upset. And gods, was she upset.

          Belle had been standing at the foot of the dining table, her hands clenched into fists, her jewel-bright eyes flashing fire. The most alarming thing which had come to his attention was the fact he was lying on the sofa between the dining table and Rumpelstiltskin's spinning wheel, directly between them and in the line of fire should things turn violent. "You have completely  _ruined_  my kitchen!  _My_ kitchen, Rumpel."

          He'd tried to defend himself. "But, Belle. All you have to do is tell the castle what you want it to do. How hard can it be to walk into the kitchen and request a pot of tea?" he'd asked. Uh-oh, big mistake, Jefferson had thought. Now he’d made her feel stupid.

          Jefferson's eyes had swung back to Belle. He was going to get a bloody crick in his neck if this kept up. Her eyes narrowed, her mouth drawn in a tight line. "There is no need for the enchantment when I am perfectly capable of doing things myself. Isn't that why you wanted me here in the beginning? To be your caretaker? What am I to do with myself now?"

          His eyes sought out the imp once more for his reaction. "Well, dearie, now the only thing you need to take care of is me," he said dryly, tired of the argument.

          Unfortunately, she'd had enough as well. Her face had turned a brilliant shade of scarlet and with a shriek she'd hurled his chipped teacup across the room at him. Rumpelstiltskin had lost all his color, and with a well-timed wave of his hand had frozen the cup in midair... just above Jefferson's head. Of course, his precious cup had survived, his hand closing over it, plucking it from the air and cradling it to his chest. The tea hadn't fared so well, splashing down on the hatter. Jefferson had risen hastily from the sofa, sputtering and cursing.

          Apparently, it was Jefferson's upset over the tea which effectively ended the argument. Rumpelstiltskin had vanished to his tower in the west wing and Belle had stormed off, bleary-eyed to her library. Now it was up to Jefferson once again to either leave and return home, a dangerous business with Regina's troops combing the area, or he could try to help his friends with their latest dispute. Not the hardest decision he'd ever had to make. He watched Belle as she sat on the sofa, her eyes wide and her face flushed. He wondered what she could possibly be reading to have elicited such a response from her. Shrugging his shoulders, he sauntered over to her and plucked the book from her hands.

          " _The Naughty Princess?"_ he asked, his eyebrows disappearing into his hairline. "And there's illustrations too! Belle, for shame, my sweet," he scolded playfully. She buried her head behind one of the throw pillows in embarrassment at having gotten caught reading such scandalous material.

          "I'm sorry, what was that?"

          "Leave me alone, Jeff," she groaned from behind the pillow, wishing the world would open up and swallow her whole. Then she wouldn't have to face her friend with the fires of hell burning brightly in her cheeks.

          Jefferson plopped on the other end of the sofa and snatched the pillow away from her. "What would dear Rum say if he knew you were up here, tucked away in the library reading ... smut?" he teased, rubbing her shoulder gently. "Come on, Belle. I was only teasing."

          Belle dropped her head back on the high back of the sofa and sighed dejectedly. "I shouldn't have shouted at him. I was angry, but I shouldn't have taken it out on Rumpel. It really wasn't even the enchantment which upset me overmuch." She twisted her hands in her lap, still refusing to meet his gaze. If he really knew what was bothering her, he'd laugh for a solid week and she'd never be able to look him in the eye again.

          "Alright, out with it. You know you can tell me," he coaxed, pasting a serious expression on his face. Or as serious as he was capable of.

          Her teeth worried at her lower lip as she sought for the words to tell him of her problem. She peeked up at him from beneath her lashes, her face maintaining its deep crimson color. "I'mworriedIdon'tpleasehim," she said, her words jumbling together in her haste to have them said.

          He stared blankly at her a moment. No, he couldn't have heard her right. "I beg your pardon? Did you just say you're worried you don't please him?"

          She covered her face with her hands in embarrassment and mumbled, "I am  _not_  repeating myself, Jeff."

          Jefferson rubbed her shoulder for a moment, trying to comfort her. "Belle, I've never seen him happier, more human. You did that." She still wouldn't look at him. He pried her hands away from her face and lowered them to her lap before he cupped her chin in his hand and forced her to meet his gaze. "You please him. No matter what, you do. He loves your innocence, Belle … not what you can find in your romance novels." He rose from the sofa and pulled her to her feet, prodding her in the direction of the staircase. "Go, talk to him. You demanded honesty from him, remember? You owe it to him to be honest as well."

          She offered him a tentative smile and a kiss on the cheek. "Thank you, Jeff. You're right." It wasn't fair of her to take out her anxiety on Rumpelstiltskin. She left the hatter alone in the library feeling quite proud of himself.

 

*.*.*

 

          There was no need for her to traipse all the way up to the tower. She could hear the steady creak of the wheel as she entered the Great Hall. But he wasn't spinning as she'd thought. He was standing next to it, his hand passing over the wheel, spinning it absently as he stared off into the distance, his back to her. His hand stilled on the wheel and his back stiffened as he heard her approach, but she wouldn't let that deter her. She owed him an apology, and she wasn't about to let his cool demeanor drive a wedge between them.

          Belle slipped her hands about his waist, her hands splaying across his abdomen as she pressed herself tightly to his back, molding herself to him. She sighed her contentment, holding him to her. "Rumpel?"

          He turned his head to glance at her over his shoulder, the only act of acknowledgement he would allow her.

          "I - I'm sorry. Please, I don't want to fight with you. I - I was wrong to take out my insecurities on you. Will you forgive me?" she asked, pressing her brow to his back, pleading with him softly.

          "You threw my cup, dearie," he bit out accusingly.

          She stood on her toes to place a soft kiss to the nape of his neck. "I'm sorry." Her hand moved to his chest, her lips to his ear. "I'm sorry." She breathed a sigh of relief as she felt him relax into her embrace. "I love you and I'm sorry."

          Rumpelstiltskin pulled her around to press her against his chest, his hand delving into her unbound hair to hold her head captive for his kiss. In so many ways she was still a mystery to him. His Belle was sweetness and innocence with undertones of passion and fire, and her moods could change just as swiftly as his. It was no wonder he was drawn to her. Her light sought to chase away his darkness just as his darkness sought to smother her light. They balanced one another. He nibbled at her bottom lip, his kiss gentle as he poured his love into her.

          He rested his brow to hers and sighed. "Of course, I forgive you. Now would you like to tell me what our fight was really about? What do  _you_  have to be insecure about?"

          She ducked her head, a rosy blush settling into the apples of her cheeks. But she couldn't let her embarrassment stop her from being honest with him. She refused to lie to him, or keep anything from him and she prayed he would be just as willing to share himself with her. She knew he was still afraid to show his true self to her. "I need to ask you something, but I don't know how exactly."

          "Belle, if it's about the enchantments, I can lift it. I didn't mean to make you unhappy. I just wanted you to have more time to do other things. You'd have time to read, or work in your garden, or go swimming in the lake. I don't want you to be a servant anymore."

          "No, you're right. It will help, and we can spend more time together, but that's not really what's bothering me. I just used it as an excuse to lash out at you," she said, still unwilling to meet his gaze, afraid he would see the twinge of fear in her eyes.

          "Then what is it?" he asked, frustrated she felt she couldn't open up to him. Couldn't she see he was willing to do anything to make her happy?

          Her voice was barely a whisper as she pressed her lips close to his ear, causing him to shiver. "I'm afraid I don't please you."

          His arms crushed her to him, his laughter deep and genuine. "How could you not, my love? Everything about you pleases me."

          "Then why do you act like you don't want me to touch you when we make love?" She felt so stupid standing there before him voicing her insecurities, but it was making her crazy and she couldn't take it anymore.  He was constantly pulling away from her. Oh, he was allowed to touch her all he liked, but he shied away from her touch and it had to stop.

          Rumpelstiltskin closed his eyes and tucked her head under his chin, pulling her back into his embrace. "Why would you want to? I still can't believe you would  _want_  to go to bed with me and I'm just trying to spare —"

          Belle pulled back sharply and glared up at him. "You really want me to slap you again, don't you? Rumpelstiltskin, I love you. I love every inch of you and if I want to touch you it should be my choice and not some misguided notions you may have in your head to spare me the monster," she fumed, poking him several times in his chest to get her point across. "And stop laughing at me. It's not funny."

          His long nails scratched over her scalp before gliding through her long chestnut locks as he buried his face in the crook of her neck, nipping lightly with his teeth. She trembled in his arms. "I promise I won't pull away from you again, my dearest." He swirled his tongue against the pulse point at her throat and she moaned her pleasure in his ear. "If you wish it ... we could go upstairs." His hand moved slowly from her hip and up her side to cup her breast, his thumb teasing the nipple through the fabric of her gown. "And you could touch me until your heart is content." The hand in her hair pulled her head back so he could look into her heavily-lidded eyes, her face flushed with desire. "You don't know how many nights I laid awake thinking of you, wishing you were beneath me."

          "Rumpel?" she asked, her breath coming in sharp little pants.

          "Hmm ..."

          "Shut up and take me upstairs."

 

*.*.*

 

          Belle's sigh of contentment made Rumpelstiltskin smile warmly against her hair as she relaxed back against his chest. She'd been surprised but pleased after dinner when he'd asked her sit with him at the spinning wheel while he engaged in his favorite pastime. Her right hand held her teacup, his the long thread. Her left hand rested against the wood grain of the wheel, his resting lightly atop hers as it rotated. Many a night after she'd retired for the evening, he'd sat at the wheel, lost in thought, wishing she was there just as she was now.

          Her presence comforted him as nothing had in more than a century and he could feel himself relaxing into her, at peace. It pleased him to know her hand was caressing the deep wood grain of something which meant so much to him. The only sounds in the Great Hall were the crackle of the fire and the slow creak of the wheel as she turned her head ever so slightly and pressed her lips to his cheek.

          "He was my son. Baelfire, or Bae as I called him," he said, so softly he wasn't certain she’d even heard him. But he felt her stir in his arms, her hand stilling beneath his and her gaze searching his face. Belle didn't say anything, afraid if she did he wouldn't continue, instead choosing to rest both of her hands on her lap and tuck her brow against his neck as she prepared to listen to his tale.

          "I was thirty-seven when I was called to the front. The Duke of the Frontlands was calling for all able-bodied men to fight in the ogre wars. So, I left my wife and heeded the call, as was my duty. I didn't find out until much later I'd left her with my child growing in her belly." He stopped spinning and sighed wearily, his hand stroking through her unbound hair. She took his left hand in hers and twined her fingers with his, squeezing gently, a silent plea for him to continue.

          "The day before we were to go into battle, I was asked to stand guard over a prisoner who was reported to help us change the tide of the war. She was a seer," he told her, huffing slightly as he remembered the girl, the thick black stitches covering her face where her eyes should have been. "She told me that Milah had given me a son in my absence and my actions on the battlefield would leave him fatherless. She said there was nothing I could do to prevent it." He was silent for several minutes, lost in thought. "Belle, do you remember the wounded from the battles with the ogres in Avonlea?"

          She shuddered in his arms, remembering the wounded which had poured into the infirmary day after day. "Yes, I remember. Soldiers torn to shreds by the violence, left to die. And the ones who didn't perish ... " Her voice trailed off, her eyes burning with unshed tears. "The only men to return were either the dead to be buried or those who were so maimed they couldn't fight any longer."

          "I am not proud of it, but I did what I had to ... to return to my son." He raised his hand to catch a tear which trailed down her face on the pad of his thumb. She didn't press him for details about his actions, accepting whatever he wanted to share with her. "I returned to the village, branded a coward, but at least I was alive. I took comfort in the fact my son wouldn't have to grow up without a father."

          "And what of your wife?"

          He rubbed his face against her hair, reveling in its softness as he tried not to let bitterness creep into his voice. "Milah was never happy with me, Belle. It had been an arranged marriage. She hated the simple life we shared in our small village. She craved adventure and being married to the village coward was never something she wanted. And soon after I returned from the war, she began to hate me, too. She began spending more and more time at the tavern, sometimes leaving Bae alone for hours while I worked to make a living for us. He was seven when she left us. She ran off with a pirate, believe it or not," he spat bitterly.

          "You deserved better than her," she said softly, nuzzling his neck.

          He pressed a kiss to her brow before continuing. "Days before Bae's fourteenth birthday, the Duke lowered the age restriction to fourteen. They were coming for my boy, Belle. I couldn't let them take Baelfire to the front to die, so we ran. As you can imagine, we didn't get far. Instead I met a beggar with a fascinating tale. He told me of the Dark One and how he was held in thrall, a slave to the duke." He looked down at her, finally meeting her startled gaze. What he was going to tell her wasn't something he liked to share with anyone. Jefferson was the only other person besides Bae who knew of the dagger, and that had been an accident. Damn Wonderland rum!

          "He told me the source of the Dark One's power lay in a mystical dagger." He chuckled softly as he watched her. Her expression was one of rapt curiosity, as though he were reading her a story. "He said if I possessed the dagger, I would be able to control the sorcerer, but if I were to kill him, I could take on his power as my own."

          "So, you killed him," she stated simply.

          "Yes, he goaded me into it. I suppose he was tired of the burden … who really knows? I killed him and took on his power. I was convinced I could use it for good. I saved all the children from the war and brought them home and kept my son from the front, but that was probably the only good I've ever done, Belle. I let the power become too important. Before I became the Dark One, I hadn't been the strongest man. I let the darkness consume me and it scared Bae. He asked me to give it up and return to being just his father. The dagger was the only way to destroy the darkness and he didn't want me to lose my power if it would in turn take my life. So, he sought help from Rheul Ghorm."

          Dawning understanding lit her eyes. "The Blue Fairy," she whispered. "That's why you hate the fairies."

          "Indeed. She told Bae she had a way to send us to a land without magic where I would lose my power, become an ordinary man once again. But when the portal opened, I couldn't go through with it. I couldn't give up my power. I-I let him go. And I've never regretted anything more. For three centuries, I've devoted myself to one goal, finding my son."

          Belle cupped his face in her hands, brushing his tears away with her fingertips, whispering words of comfort against his lips. He'd been through so much in his long life and her heart broke for him and all he had suffered. "Tell me more, love. Are you any closer now to finding a way to him?"

          "Yes, but it's complicated," he finally said, tearing his gaze away from her. "It's a powerful piece of dark magic ... a curse of my own creation. Once cast, it will take us to a land without magic, to Baelfire."

          A shiver tripped up her spine and she pressed closer to him. "Why haven't you cast it, Rumpel?"

          "Because it isn't quite time. The board isn't set. All the players have to be in position for maximum effectiveness, so to speak," he mumbled evasively. "And I will not be the one to cast it." He tipped her chin up to meet his eyes, giving her a pointed look.

          Belle gasped. "Regina."

          "Very perceptive, dearest. Yes, Regina will be the one to cast the Dark Curse."

          "What will happen to us, Rumpel? How will we get to this new land?" she asked, unable to stop herself from asking the myriad of questions whirling in her head. "Will we be together?"

          He sighed. "Time will be frozen for twenty-eight years, until the savior comes to break the curse. We will live in a state of limbo with no memory of our old lives, existing with no hope of happiness. Regina, as the caster of the curse will be the only one to retain her memories. But once the curse is broken, I will be able to resume my search for my Baelfire. I  _will_  find him. And I will make certain you and I are together. I promise, sweetheart."

          " _We_  will find him, together. As long as we  _are_  together. I don't want to be separated from you again."

          "Indeed not. Are you frightened?" he asked, staring down at her in wonder.

          She grinned up at him. "What do I have to be frightened of if I have you?"

          Belle settled back against his chest as he continued his tale. He told her of his relationship with a miller's daughter, Regina's mother, which had ended badly. He told her of his many deals and his search for another way to find his son. She could hear the pain in his voice as she listened silently, not wanting to interrupt as he poured out centuries worth of stories. She shared her tears with him as well as her laughter.

          "And now I want you to tell me ... why did you want me, Rumpel? When you came to Avonlea that night, why did you want  _me?"_  she asked, her voice soft as she trailed her nails down the arm he'd wrapped about her waist.

          A frown drew his brows together as he looked down into her large blue eyes. "I don't know, really. You were like a siren, calling to me, drawing me to you, and I was powerless to resist. That had never happened to me before. All I've ever wanted was to find Bae and then there you were, and I knew I had to possess you. I didn't know you were going to worm your way into my heart."

          He could feel her smile where her lips pressed against his throat. "Are you happy I did?"

          "What do you think, dearie?" he asked, lifting one perfect brow as he kissed the tip of her nose. "Aren't you going to run screaming from the grounds now that I've poured out my soul and told you of all the horrible deeds I'm capable of?"

          He grunted as Belle poked him in the ribs with her sharp nail. "Don't be absurd, Rumpel. If anything, I love you more for it because I have a better understanding of what makes you tick."

          Rumpelstiltskin could feel the darkness within him growl in agony with her words. His heart swelled with love for the woman on his lap and it terrified him. How could one feel overwhelming joy and terror at the same time? "Um, Belle ... are you certain you want to remain with me forever?" he asked nervously. Because really, how could he expect her to remain in the darkness with him?

          "Yes, love, forever. I've never been more certain of anything in all my life," she promised.

          He swallowed around the lump which had formed in his throat, forcing the words out. "Would, uh ... would you have me as your husband, then?" he asked, looking everywhere besides her eyes, unable to bear seeing her rejection.

          Belle tugged at the ends of his hair, pulling his head down to capture his lips with hers. Her lips were soft and tender as they brushed his own. "Yes," she breathed against his mouth, deepening the kiss. "Yes, I will be honored to have you." Her smile was blinding and full of love when she finally pulled away from him. She could see a glimpse of the man he had been in the smile he gave her, a genuine smile of warmth and love, the imp he portrayed to the world absent.

          He pulled a ring from the pocket of his waistcoat and slipped it on her finger. It was a perfect square cut sapphire flanked on either side with diamonds, a perfect token of his affection for her, a symbol of his love for her, proclaiming to the world she belonged to him. He'd created the gold for the setting and she thought it couldn't have been more perfect.

          "Are you certain, Belle? It's forever, dearie," he said softly against her ear as she admired her ring.

          "Yes, forever."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I hope you all enjoyed it. Please let me know what you think.


	19. Chapter 19

          Belle trekked up the stone stairs to his tower laboratory, her mood spiraling downward with each step. Rumpelstiltskin never left the Dark Castle without giving her some warning she'd be there alone, sometimes for days at a time. She'd been searching for him for the better part of an hour, ever since she'd bid Jefferson farewell after breakfast. He'd been more than pleased to see the ring on her hand, sweeping her up into his arms and offering his congratulations.

          Of course, Rumpelstiltskin had threatened him quietly, something about snails, if he put his hands on her again. Possessive much? She didn't mind at all, however. It was rather sweet he didn't have a problem showing his emotions anymore. Jefferson had blown off his threat, shaking his hand and clapping him on the back and wishing them all the happiness in the world. She would always be thankful for Jefferson. There wasn't an ounce of pretense in him, not a hint of fear when it came to his friend. Before his departure, he'd promised to return with Grace in a week for their nuptials. She paused on her trek upward to wonder if Rumpelstiltskin would let her invite Snow and her prince.

          A rather loud boom echoed down the stairs, followed by green smoke and a curse. Well, at least she hadn't wasted a trip up the long flight of stairs, she thought with a sigh. The door to the circular room was closed to her as usual. He'd forbidden her access to his private domain and the knock was hesitant. But he'd been cooped up here all day, and her curiosity was getting the better of her. Her mouth gaped open as he pulled the door open, his mouth twisted into an angry snarl. But it wasn't the snarl which had her standing there gaping like a fish out of water. She was trying not to laugh, she really was. One side of his face was covered in soot, his hair standing on end.

          "What happened to you?" she asked, unable to hold back a giggle.

          He grinned sheepishly. "Do you realize you're the only person in the entire realm who has ever dared laugh at me to my face?" he asked, pulling her into the room and lifting her onto a stool next to his work table. He magicked the mess away from his face before dropping a kiss to her smiling mouth.

          "I guess love has its privileges, hmm?" she teased. Belle looked around the room in wonder, having never been privy to it before. There were bookshelves holding books of magic her fingers itched to touch. A tall shelf held potion bottles with mysterious liquids, all meticulously labeled, but it was his work table which drew her gaze and the objects laid out upon it. Bowls and potion bottles and several squishy things she didn't want to contemplate, littered its surface. There was a large bowl of water in the middle of the table drawing her attention away from the dark scroll unfurled next to it. The surface of the water shifted and moved even though the water was calm.

          "Go on, Belle, have a closer look. You've that, oh-gods-I'm-going-to-have-a-seizure-if-I-can't-touch look in your eyes," he smirked. He glanced down at the bowl and watched as the surface glimmered and brought the scene to life. "Hell! I warned them."

          Belle peered closely and watched Snow as she stood in the dungeon of King George's palace, crying before a floor length mirror. "How'd the prince get stuck in a mirror?"

          "Well, it can be done, but in this case it's just an illusion." He peered into the bowl to see Snow practically tonguing the glass before the image in the mirror shifted to Regina's sneering features. "Appears no one listens to me nowadays. I told them not to get caught, yet now Regina has him locked up in the Winter Palace." He glanced at Belle as he dropped a long length of golden thread into a bowl, his eyes narrowing as he watched her hands fidget in her lap and her teeth catch her bottom lip. He knew that look and it made his gut twist. "No. No, no, no." Her eyes peeked up at him from beneath her lashes.

          "Why?"

          "I am not helping," he refused adamantly. She was still looking at him with those big blue eyes, making him feel the first twinges of guilt. How was it she had a way of getting him to give her anything she wanted with just a look? No, he couldn't do it this time. "Belle, you may punish me to your heart's desire ... much to my delight, I must say, but I cannot interfere this time."

          Finally, understanding traced across her features. "Because of the curse?"

          "Yes." He raked a hand through his messy locks and leveled her with a stare. "Everything has to play out as I've foreseen. If I interfere, things could become quite messy for us." He held up a vial and brought it close to her face, the pinkish purple liquid swirling before her eyes. "We're going to need our young friend there to put this in a safe place for us, so don't worry about his fate."

          Belle ran her finger over the vial, her eyes wide and unblinking as she stared at the one potion he'd worried he'd never be able to create. "You did it, Rumpel. How clever of you." She watched as he uncorked the vial and tipped it over the parchment, letting just a tiny drop slip onto it. "Is that —"

          "The Dark Curse. I wanted to make some modifications to it before I give it to Regina." He re-stoppered the vial and laid it gently inside a golden egg, locking the cylinder and pocketing the key. He tipped her chin up to meet his gaze. "Don't fret, dear one. Everything will be fine," he assured her.

          Belle propped her chin in her hand, turning her attention back to the scrying bowl to watch Snow's drama unfold. "And to think I was going to ask you if I could invite them to the wedding."

          Rumpelstiltskin giggled, the shrill sound loud in the tower room. "Oh, you may. Their little drama will be concluded by then. Write your letter and I'll make sure the shepherd gets it."

          She hopped off the stool and wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing a kiss to his mouth. "Thank you."

          Suppressing the urge to carry her off to bed, he moved away from her and poked at the thread he'd placed in the bowl. He didn't like it now that he had her rapt attention focused on his actions. He picked up a small dagger from the table and cut a deep gash into his palm before she could protest and let the blood drip into the bowl.

          "Rumpel!" she shrieked, moving to his side. "What are you doing?"

          "See, Belle, this is why I don't let you come up here while I'm working," he sighed with exasperation. He wiggled his fingers before her startled face and showed her the smooth texture of his palm. The look spreading across her features told him he was clearly being an ass.

          "Alright, fine." She turned her attention to the bowl once more, peering at it curiously. The gold was mixing and swirling with the blood, sparkling even. "What's it doing? Is this for one of your deals?" she asked, her voice low and filled with fascination.

          He carded his fingers into her unbound hair and regarded her seriously. When he spoke, his voice was soft. "Actually, this is for you." He had little hope she would be pleased with his gift, especially after she learned the purpose of it, but one could dream. He waved his hand over the bowl and let his magic flow into the mixture. When he removed it, inside the bowl sat two identical bracelets with carvings of roses along the edges.

          "These are lovely, Rumpel," she breathed, reaching out her hand to touch the gold bracelets. He grabbed her wrist before she could get too close and dropped a kiss on her knuckles.

          "Not yet," he warned. She lifted a questioning brow at him. "First I have to explain their purpose."

          "It's jewelry, Rumpel. What's to explain?"

          He led her to the overstuffed chair he kept in his sanctuary, the bracelets dangling from one long finger. He sat down and pulled her down onto his lap, again having to keep the bangles out of her reach. She was quite drawn to them. He decided to take that as a positive sign. "Sweetheart, have you noticed I've only left the Dark Castle once since you've returned to me?" he asked cautiously. She nodded. "Do you know why?"

          Belle dragged her gaze away from the jewelry and its hypnotic draw to look into his warm amber gaze. "No, why? No deals to run off to, I suppose."

          "Uh, no. I don't want to leave you here unprotected."

          "And these are to protect me?" she asked carefully.

          He cupped her chin in his hand, holding her gaze. "I want you to hear what I have to say before you answer, Belle," he said, his tone rather serious all of a sudden. This was a decision she had to make on her own. He wouldn't force her to accept. It was her choice. It didn't matter that her answer meant considerably more to him than when she'd accepted his marriage proposal. Almost. "As the Dark One, I have accumulated quite a lot of enemies. If we're to be married, it's possible my enemies will try to use you against me. To prevent that, I need to bind you to me."

          "How?" she asked, lines of apprehension and worry forming at her mouth.

          He cleared his throat before continuing, his voice holding just a twinge of nervousness. He squirmed under her intense scrutiny. This was his Belle after all and he couldn't just force the mask of the Dark One onto his face and expect her to cower in fear. She saw through him better than anyone ever had. "Yes, well, the bracelets are like a conductor, so to speak. They will infuse you with my magic, giving you power of your own. Once you learn how to channel it and bend it to your will, you will be able to protect yourself while I'm away."

          "Is this absolutely necessary? What if I do it wrong?"

          "You won't do it wrong. You just need me to show you how," he insisted. "Now, will you accept? I've never bound anyone to me before, so I'm a bit sketchy on the details."

          Belle smiled brightly and held out her hand to him. "So I get to be your guinea pig, hmm?"

          He rubbed the pad of his thumb over her palm in a lazy circle as he took her hand in his. "Belle, are you certain? Once they're in place you won't be able to remove them. They will become a part of you, just like the magic will become a part of you. You have to be sure this is what you want."

          Belle threaded her fingers through his hair and brushed her lips to his, running her tongue over the seam of his lips, seeking entrance to his mouth and deepening the kiss. She raked her fingernails over his scalp, eliciting a moan from deep in his throat. "I want  _you_ ," she whispered breathlessly against his mouth as she nibbled at his lower lip. "If this is what you want, I willingly accept."

          He regarded her warily. "What if there are side effects?"

          Her eyes sparked with mischief. "Aww, love, you wouldn't love me if I had a nice little twitchy tail?"

          He indulged the fantasy a moment before giving his head a vigorous shake to clear it. "Not funny." He watched her anxiously as he slid the first bracelet onto her delicate wrist. When nothing dire happened, he repeated the action with the other. Waving his hand over the cuffs, the overly large jewelry shrank to the appropriate size and rested innocently against her milky flesh. He frowned, disappointed nothing was happening.

          Belle's brows drew together in a puzzled frown as she admired the gold lying against her skin, the cool texture of the shining metal warming after a moment. "I thought —" She froze, and a knot of fear blossomed in her chest as she watched black rivulets break out beneath the skin of her wrists and snake up her arms.

          The color drained out of his face as she doubled over, her arms wrapping around her abdomen. The shriek which erupted from her throat stopped his heart, and all he could do was hold onto her to keep her from tumbling to the floor. She writhed and wailed as though someone were cutting into her flesh as he watched the tendrils of his own blood snake their way to her heart.

          "Hold on, sweetheart," he crooned next to her ear as he ran a soothing hand over her hair and tucked her head beneath his chin. "It will be over soon." He'd been afraid of this, but he'd been uncertain, a mistake he wasn't likely to make again.

          "I – I - It hurts, Rum - Rumpel. M - Make it st - stop," she gritted out between clenched teeth, her nails digging into his shoulder.

          Tears fell unchecked from his eyes as he held her tightly to his chest, rocking her gently and whispering soothing words to her. All too soon, but what seemed an eternity to him, she collapsed against him weakly having lost consciousness. "Belle? Belle!" He checked the pulse at her throat and breathed a heavy sigh of relief as he felt its rapid tempo. Her body had shut down that sharp mind of hers to protect her from the pain. 

 _Not much longer, not much longer, not much longer. She's going to be fine. I did not just kill the most precious woman I've ever met. I was an ass to even attempt this. I was being selfish. Stupid, stupid, stupid._  She stirred in his arms and he was able to breathe again, her eyes opening and meeting his anxious gaze. "Gods, Belle, you scared the hell out of me!"

          "Don't even try to make this out to be my fault, Rumpelstiltskin," she murmured weakly and gave a half-hearted poke to his ribs. "Did it work?"

          He rained kisses over her face, leaving not an inch neglected. "Yes, dear one. All my fault. Completely," he croaked between kisses, relief washing over him. "We'll start training tomorrow." His lips moved over her hair, down her neck, over her collarbone. "We'll wait until you recover."

          "I'm weak, Rumpel, not sick," she protested. She delved her hands into his hair to cease his parade of lips across her person. She lightly touched the gold at her wrists, noticing how the gold was shining brightly in the glow of the lanterns spread about the tower. She had to admit ... when he gave a gift; he really gave a gift.

          He studied her closely. He could feel the magic thrumming in her veins. Always, he'd felt as though she were a siren calling to him. Now her blood  _did_  call to him, his own blood nestled inside her heart a cadence only he could hear. It made him yearn for her touch. It was also the most erotic thing he'd ever experienced. But he couldn't just magic them to their bed right now. He wasn't quite finished.

          "Are you certain you're alright? How do you feel?" he asked against the curve of her shoulder, biting lightly before gaining control over himself.

          Belle worried at her bottom lip and thought for a moment, trying to put the strange sensation into words. "I, uh ... I feel like my skin is humming. Is that magic?"

          She gasped as he rose from the chair with her cradled in his arms. He set her gently onto the stool and glanced at the scrying bowl on the table, drawing her attention as well. "Yes, my love," he said distractedly. "That's the magic you feel. And from the looks of this," he gestured to the bowl. "I won't have to leave you until sometime tomorrow afternoon. That should give the shepherd ample time to escape Regina's nefarious clutches."

          She made to get up, but he stopped her with a hand on her waist. "I was just going to make tea."

          "Not yet. I, uh ... I have another gift for you."

          "I think I'll pass," she snarked dryly, not sure she had the stamina to survive another of his wondrous gifts.

          "No. Let me give you this one last gift and then we will both be free to enjoy the remainder of the afternoon, hmm?" She nodded, unable to mistake the vulnerability evident in his features. Her eyes followed him as he moved to the bare stone wall between two bookshelves and pressed his hands to four different stones, each glowing faintly under his touch. She gasped softly in surprise as a hole opened and he withdrew a long flat wooden case. She couldn't help but wonder what was so special he had to guard it so closely.

          He approached her hesitantly, the case pressed to his chest. Even after she'd proven over and over how much she loved him, he couldn't help but be wary to hand her the case. This had the makings of a disaster written all over it. In three hundred years he'd never let it leave his possession. He'd never trusted anyone to have this much power over him.

          But this was his Belle. She'd never asked him for anything but his love. After centuries of people asking him to make a deal, centuries of people begging him for riches and title and land and trivialities, all Belle had ever asked for was his love. She'd let him bind her to him and suffered through unimaginable pain to make him happy. No, she would never betray him.

          Belle was frowning at him, concern in her jewel-bright eyes. "Rumpel, are you alright? You're looking a little green."

          He found himself smirking. "Is that supposed to be a quip, dearie?"

          Her laughter rang through the tower at his bemusement. He gave her a small smile and laid the case on the work table before her, pulling his hands away and clasping them behind his back lest he snatch the case away from her. "Go on, love, open it."

          Belle's hands smoothed over the case, enjoying the way it felt under her hands before lifting the lid. Her eyes widened as they came to rest on the kris dagger nestled on a bed of velvet, his name prominently displayed on the gleaming metal. And just as suddenly, she slammed the case closed and pushed it toward him. "No," she hissed adamantly. "You … this … NO!"

          He grabbed her upper arms as she slipped off the stool and made to run for the door. She struggled in his arms, refusing to meet his eyes. "Belle, stop. Look at me." Slowly she lifted her tear-filled eyes to his. "Why are you crying?"

          "That is not a gift. I will  _not_  let you give me control over you. Do you think I haven't heard the stories, Rumpelstiltskin, of how … how …" she couldn't finish, too overwhelmed with emotion. “You told me last night … admitted if you stole the dagger from the duke you’d have power over the Dark One.  It was one of your choices … I can’t do that to you!”

          He held her until she ceased her struggles and stood rigid in his embrace. He soothed his hand over her hair and tipped her chin up to meet his gaze. "Do you think I do this lightly? In three centuries, I have never lost possession of the dagger, I have never _offered_ its control to another living soul. I have never  _trusted_  anyone with the knowledge of such a weapon, until now. I’ve _killed_ to keep my secret, yet I trust you not to abuse its power, just as I trust you to guard my heart. I just ask that you hide it well and guard it always." He lifted the blade from the case and pressed it into her hands, wrapping her fingers around the handle.

          Resigned to his wishes, she sighed wearily feeling as though the weight of the world had been dropped onto her shoulders. Her gaze was steady as her eyes met his. "What am I to do? Don't I have to summon you or some such nonsense?" she asked sulkily.

          He stepped away from her, his chin lifted proudly, waiting for her call. And waited. And waited. "Belle," he chided. "Come on, dear one. You know what you must do."

          "Fine," she hissed impatiently. She held the dagger aloft. "O Dark One, I summon thee." She gasped as purple smoke enveloped him and he reappeared before her on bended knee, head bowed, her servant. "Oh, uh," she stammered. Was this supposed to be turning her on?

          "I am yours to command, my mistress," he said in a clear even tone. He could feel the hold she had on him, but he didn’t fear her nor was he filled with dread thinking of the things she would ask him to do for her. She could order him to slay half the kingdom and he'd do so gladly without a qualm, all because she wished it. She lowered the blade and ran her fingertip along his name, causing him to shiver with pleasure, her touch almost tangible. He was on his knees at her feet, for the gods’ sake. That, in and of itself, should prove his love for her.

          Belle trembled as she laid the dagger once more in its case and closed the lid. She dropped to her knees before him and looped her arms around his neck, tugging gently at the ends of his hair. "I can ask anything of you?" she whispered hotly against his mouth. He was damn near a statue in her arms, refusing to move until she made her first command. She could feel his muscles bunching under the silk of his shirt as he restrained himself from touching her.

          "Yes," he replied through clenched teeth, wanting nothing more than to claim her in that moment, to feel her soft flesh yield beneath him.

          She trailed her lips to his ear and nipped at the lobe and smiled when he jerked against her touch. The restraint had to be torture on him. Her tongue swirled beneath his ear before nipping gently with her teeth. The low hungry growl rumbling in his throat was the sweetest music to her ears. Finally, she lifted her gaze to his, her desire for him shining in the depths of her eyes. "Love me, Rumpel. Take me to your bed and love me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: And the plot thickens. Still lots more to this story, so stay tuned. I hope you all enjoyed it. Please let me know what you think.


	20. Chapter 20

          "Holy Gods, woman! Why are you dressed like that?" Rumpelstiltskin gaped incredulously upon entering the Great Hall. His bride to be was standing next to the hearth calmly sipping her tea and staring morosely into the fire, her curvy figure hugged by a tight-fitting pair of leather pants, boots and a blue silk shirt. Blood rushed instantly to his groin and he had to clasp his hands behind his back to keep from grabbing her.

          When she didn't even look up at him, he noticed the deep circles under her eyes and the sad smile pulling at her lips. "Dearest, what's troubling you?" he asked, coming to stand beside her. "Are you ill?" He twisted a lock of her hair around one long finger before tucking it behind her ear. "You were fine this morning!"

          Belle stifled a yawn and peeked up at him from beneath her lashes. "Just tired, love," she said, reaching up to drop a chaste kiss to his lips. She stepped back hurriedly, feeling the need to put some distance between them. Her blood was on fire, or so it seemed to her. She loved the idea of being bound to him, but the side effects were hell on her nerves. She could  _feel_  him, pressing at the edges of her consciousness, his feelings becoming her own. She wondered if he could feel her as she could him. And she found she was constantly wanting to touch him. He was a fever in her blood now. She felt like she was breaking apart under the magic his blood had infused her with, and she was scared.

          "No, it's more than that, Belle. You're frightened." Worry creased his brow as he took her in, his amber gaze narrowed on her face. He took her hand in his and she flinched, jerking away from him.

          "Please don't touch me," she hissed, his innocent touch burning her and sending a jolt of heat spreading through her limbs. He immediately took a step back at her command, his brows raising in surprise and a little hurt. "I'm sorry, Rumpel, I didn't mean it to come out like that."

          He tapped a long finger to his chin in contemplation. "Hmm. Burning, sweetheart?" he asked gently. He remembered when he'd first been inflicted with the dark one curse and felt as though he was going to spontaneously combust. Belle nodded, her eyes squeezed shut against the sensations she was experiencing. "Come here." He turned her around where he could pull her back against his chest and wrap his arms tightly around her middle. The contact seemed to soothe her, and she sighed in relief.

          "What's wrong with me?" she asked, her voice pleading with him to help her.

          How was he supposed to answer her, when this was new to him as well? He'd trained Cora and Regina in the dark arts, but he'd never cared for them as he did for Belle. He'd never had the all-consuming  _need_  to bind either of them to him.  _Thank the Gods!_  He shuddered at the thought of being bound for eternity to either of those vipers. They had taken to dark magic like a babe to mother's milk, but not his Belle.

          No, Belle was all goodness and light who had no wish to let the darkness inside. She'd done it for him. He felt guilty he'd dragged her away from the light to dwell in darkness with him. "You're going to be fine as soon as you gain control over your magic. Just breathe," he whispered against her ear as he nuzzled the skin below it. "Relax in my arms, dear one, and just breathe."

          Belle tipped her head to the side to give him better access to her neck and relaxed back into his embrace. The burning was giving way to a gentle warmth as she breathed deeply. She hummed her pleasure and pulled his arms more tightly around her. Whereas before she could feel him at the edge of her consciousness as tiny pin pricks, now it was a soft caress and she wanted to feel more. She felt as though she couldn't get close enough.

          "Calm, sweetheart. Control," he whispered. He needed to take his own advice. He hadn't felt this kaleidoscope of emotion when he'd trained the harpies.  _Oh, my Belle, you're going to be the death of me. Especially if you don't stop squirming that sweet little ass against me!_  He cleared his throat and forced himself to concentrate. "Tell me how you feel now. Everything. Don't leave anything out."

          Belle pressed her cheek to his, whimpering slightly at the contact. "I feel really good now. The burning stopped and now I'm just warm ... content."

 _I'm sure you do, sweetheart, but you can't remain pressed up against me like this all day, no matter how enjoyable I might find it._   _Oh, this is going to be more difficult than I’d thought._  "Good girl. Now, the first thing you need to know is that you control the magic, the magic does not control you." His tone was soft but firm, trying to get through the haze of passion she seemed to be losing herself in. "Belle, focus."

          "Sorry," she said tightly, snatching her hands away from his leather-clad thighs. "It's just a bit distracting."

          She sucked in a sharp breath as his arm tightened about her waist and he used his other hand to draw a lazy circle on her belly. "Think ... think of this as your center." She shivered. He drew back to smirk down at her. A blush stole into her cheeks and she refused to meet his eyes. "Get your mind out of the gutter, dearie."

          "Alright, center. Got it," she breathed, nodding and resting back against his chest.

 _Dear Gods, help me._  He continued to draw his blackened nail along her belly in a circle. "Feel the magic flowing through your veins? I want you to pull it into your center. Do you understand? Pull it into a ball and trap it here."

          Her brow creased in concentration, her mouth drawing into a tight line as she tried to do as he instructed. "It's not working."

          "You're overthinking it. Don't think about it,  _feel_  it. Magic is based on pure emotion, love. I've never known anyone who is more passionate in all her emotions than you are. That passion, that emotion, will make you powerful.  _Feel_  it, Belle." His hand never stilled as he whispered against her ear. "Pull it here. You are in control, my love."

          Belle hiccupped, and a small puff of blue smoke escaped her parted lips. She glanced sharply at Rumpelstiltskin over her shoulder, her eyes wide. "Just what the hell was that?"

          He giggled and dropped a kiss to her temple. "I take it you found your center, dearest."

          "Was that a one-time thing, or am I going to be hiccupping blue smoke from now until forever?" she asked a little worriedly, poking him in the ribs when he continued to giggle at her. "Stop that, Rumpel, it's not that funny."

          "Of course not, because that would be ridiculous," he giggled again at his own quip. Sobering, he said, "Well done, dearie. Now on to step two. The most important thing you can learn - to protect yourself from the world's nasties - is teleportation. It also comes in quite handy when you're in a hurry and don't feel like climbing the many staircases in our lovely home," he deadpanned.

          Belle rubbed her stomach and groaned. "I feel like I have indigestion," she complained. "I haven't had indigestion since you brought home that roasted boar meat for dinner only to find out later it was horn-tailed dragon meat to which you know I'm allergic."

          Rumpelstiltskin shuddered and closed his eyes against the mental picture. "Yes, dearie. And we won't even think about the nasty hives." He trailed his fingers down her arm and ran his thumb over her bracelet, feeling for himself the hum it emitted. He bit his lip and tried not to laugh as she hiccupped once again. This had never happened before, but then neither of his other apprentices had had his own blood flowing through them. Maybe he should help her settle her stomach before she actually tried teleporting.  _Really don't want things to get messy._  He poured her a cup of tea with honey and lemon and a goodly amount of sugar and placed it into her trembling hands. "Drink this, dearest."

          Belle took a hesitant sip, letting the steaming brew comfort her. She watched him as he paced before her, the chipped cup resting in his palm as his gaze caressed her. "I still don't see why it's necessary for me to learn magic. You hardly let me out of your sight now. Therefore, if you are here to protect me, why do I need to learn? Can't I possess magic without using it?" she asked hopefully. "And why is my smoke blue instead of purple like yours? See, something is wrong with me."

          "Magicusedforgoodisblue," he mumbled, his gaze landing on everything but her.

          "Beg pardon? What was that, Rumpel?" She had a sneaking suspicion he was trying to hide something from her. Her foot tapped impatiently as she waited for him to repeat himself, knowing the action drove him mad.

          Finally, he caved with a pained expression. "Oh, very well. Magic used for good produces blue smoke. Happy? How's your stomach? All better?" His voice held that impish whine. "May we please continue?"

          She rolled her eyes at him and bit back a laugh. "I suppose."

          He set the chipped cup back on the tea service and rubbed his hands in anticipation. "Alright, my love, what have we learned?"

          "Really? This is a test?" Her lips twitched as his face fell. "Uh ... I have learned when I'm away from you I burn, but when you hold me I'm reduced to a warm mass of uselessness."

          "You refuse to take this seriously," he grumbled.

          "Second ... my magic gives me indigestion and a bad case of the hiccups."

          "Belle!"

          "And third ... my center is not my  _center_ ," she dragged out the last word with a sultry pout to her lips. His mouth dropped open.

 _Did she just say ..._  He shook his head, wanting to pull at his hair, but not wishing to display his weakness to her. "God's bones, woman! Learning how to control your magic could save your life. Now pay attention!"

          Belle flashed him a coy smile and took his hands in hers, stepping closer and kissing the corner of his mouth. "I'm sorry. I'll behave. I promise."

          He counted to ten. He ran his hand down his face. He counted to twenty and then hazarded a glance at her. "Alright, Belle. Since it appears you've got a handle on it, you need to learn to use it. Your emotions will drive it, shape it and propel it, but you need to use that sharp mind of yours to manipulate it. Intent is everything."

          Belle smiled slyly. "So, if I would try to conjure a tea tray and just happened to be angry with you, there's a good possibility you'd have hot tea dumped in your lap?"

          "I give up." He poofed out of the Great Hall to his tower room to sulk.

 

Twenty minutes later ...

 

          Belle was sitting on a stone bench in the very center of the rose garden when Rumpelstiltskin poofed into existence behind her and spoke. "Well are you —" he didn't get a chance to finish his question as a shriek erupted from her throat, along with a flash of blue light which knocked him three feet to her left and flat on his back. It also took out three of her prized rose bushes. He was going to be digging thorns out of his backside for a week.

          She rushed to his side and knelt beside him, cradling his head in her lap. "Oh, Rumpel, are you alright? What happened?"

          "I don't know," he answered hazily. He blinked several times to clear the whooshing in his head as the blood rushed to the knot on his crown. "But I have learned a valuable lesson."

          "What lesson?"

          "Never sneak up on a woman new to magic. Ow, my back."

 

Two hours later ...

 

          In his tower room, Rumpelstiltskin was pacing a path in the hardwood floor, going over in his mind where he had gone wrong.  _It's almost as bad as living in the Dark Castle with a fucking fairy._ He did  _not_  want to end up flat on his back again. Now he was afraid to walk without making some kind of noise. Where the hell had that flash of blue magic come from? On the upside it was definitely a useful form of protection as long as the enemy snuck up on her and cried _boo_.

          He limped to his work table to spy on the shepherd. He knew it wouldn't be too much longer before the fool ended up in the Infinite Forest, but he had to solve this problem with Belle before he could leave the castle. His back was on fire.  _Now I'm bloody well limping. Limping! Really good image for the Dark One,_  he thought blackly.

          Belle was supposed to be learning how to teleport and defend herself. The only thing she'd learned all day was how to magically transport her favorite book into her hand.  _Well, maybe she could club her attacker with it._  He shook his head in disgust. Maybe he could summon her. He stepped back against the wall, just in case.

 _Belle? Come to me, love._  His call should have brought her to him instantly. How could she ignore his call? She should have teleported to him instantly. He heard footsteps on the stairs before her head poked around the door.

          "There's no need to shout, Rumpel," she chided, plopping down on the stool at the work table and massaging her temples.

          "Belle," he sighed wearily. "You should have teleported to my side."

          "Oh." She ducked her head sheepishly. "And I may have had an accident in the Great Hall."

          The hand covering his face lowered so he could quirk a brow at her in question. "Blue light? Because I startled you?"

          She nodded, worrying her bottom lip between her pearly teeth.

          "What did you break?"

          "Remember that I love you and try not to get too upset?"

          "What. Did. You. Break?"

          Belle edged to the door hesitantly ... guiltily. "Your spinning wheel," she blurted out with a wince and dashed out the door and down the stairs. He blanched and slid down the wall he'd been leaning on.

 

Just after lunch ...

 

          His two-hundred-year-old prized spinning wheel had been repaired. He hadn't spoken to his lovely bride-to-be in two hours and she was watching him; he could feel it. His back still burned from the episode in the garden and now he had a splinter under his thumb nail. He sighed and glanced up to meet her worried gaze.

          "Are you angry with me, Rumpel?" she asked softly. "I'm sorry I disappointed you." He could see tears gleaming at the corners of her soulful blue eyes. She closed her book and set it aside, rising from the sofa and approaching him warily.

          He turned from the wheel and dragged her onto his lap, burying his nose in her hair and breathing her in. After spending time in the garden, she smelled of roses and her scent soothed his frazzled nerves. "No, I'm not angry with you, my darling. I can't really expect you to learn everything in one afternoon. But I had hoped you could learn to teleport today. You just need to practice."

          She carded her hands into his hair and raked her nails over his scalp. He growled in pleasure and pressed her closer. "I promise I'll do better, Rumpel," she purred softly against his lips. "Don't you have an appointment this afternoon? A deal with a certain prince friend of ours?"

          "Yes, dearest. Did you write the letter to Snow? Not that it's going to do her any good at this moment," he drawled, followed by his shrill laughter. "I mean, really, she can't read it in her present state."

          Belle rose from his lap, so he could rise. "Why? What haven't you told me?"

          "Sleeping curse." He held up a hand to silence her protests. "Don't fret, love. The shepherd will save his fair princess in time to make it to our wedding," he postured dramatically. He put a hand to the side of his mouth as though he were whispering. "The bowl has foreseen it."

          She swatted his arm playfully. "Don't worry about me while you're gone. I'll be fine and have dinner on the table when you return. Just please be careful, won't you?"

          He pulled her to him, his mouth claiming hers in a hungry, lingering kiss. "I will always return to you, my siren. I love you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: OMG! I hope y’all enjoyed reading this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. This was so much fun for me. Please let me know what you think. xoxox


	21. Chapter 21

          "Stop being a big baby, Rumpel."

          "Ow! No, no, no ... not there ... ahhhhh."

          "Stop wiggling around and it won't hurt."

          "But, dearest ... ooh ... do you have to ... ah ... be so rough?"

          "I like it rough."

          "Damnit, Belle! Ooh, yes ... right ... there."

          "Move your hips to the right, sweetheart," she cooed softly.

          "Ahhhhh. You. Are. A. Goddess."

          "You can rest for fifteen minutes before I start in on you again."

          "Where did you learn how to do that?"

          "Books, darling." Belle stepped gingerly back onto the carpet as she eased her weight from Rumpelstiltskin's back where she'd been working the kinks out with her toes as he laid on the rug before the hearth in their bed chamber. She aimed a sweet smile at him over her shoulder and entered the bathing chamber to see to his bath. After he had a nice soak, she'd be able to work out the rest of the knots.

          As touch-starved as he'd been when she’d come to stay at the Dark Castle, it was probably three centuries worth of kinks and knots she was finally freeing. She asked the tub to fill, one of his handier enchantments, and tested it with her foot. She asked for more heat and watched the steam begin to fill the room before calling him to her.

          "You're still limping. Did I not help at all?" she asked worriedly.

          He eased himself into the tub and submerged to his chin, letting the heat seep into his strained muscles. "You helped, my love. It's just been a rather trying day."

          Belle laid down on her side on the cool marble floor next to the sunken tub and propped her head in her hand. "And I'm sure a lot of that was my fault," she said with a grimace. "Hopefully, I'll be able to get control of that blue flash soon."

          "Indeed. It will serve you well when you can control it. You could shape it to be a powerful defensive maneuver. But the day wasn't a complete waste. You did well with the conjuring spell," he winked.

          Belle moved to sit behind him. "Sit up so I can work on your shoulders." She tentatively placed her hands on his shoulders and began kneading the knotted muscles, ignoring the moan which issued from his throat. "So, are you going to tell me how your meeting with Charming went this afternoon?"

          He grabbed her right hand and pressed a kiss to her palm. "I'd rather just lie here and concentrate on what you're making me feel." He tugged on her hand. "It would feel better if you would join me."

          She pulled her hand back and resumed her ministrations. "Hmm. And then I won't get the answers I want. Now stop avoiding the issue and tell me," she persisted, drawing another throaty groan from him.

          "The shepherd escaped from the Winter Palace and somehow ended up in the Infinite Forest."

          She gasped softly against his ear. She'd leaned forward slightly to work on a knot under his right shoulder blade. "How'd that happen?"

          "More of Regina's machinations, no doubt. If he was trapped there, he couldn't very well find Snow White to break her curse. It took quite a bit of convincing to get him to let me help him." His breath caught as her hand ghosted down over his hip. "The boy is entirely too hot-headed. He depends more on his sword than his wit."

          "Did you actually draw your sword on him, Rumpel?" she asked, her eyes twinkling with amusement.

          "Think about it, my Belle. He was feeling hopeless and needed to lash out at someone to feel like he had control over his own destiny. Do you really think I was going to deny him? It's not like he could hurt me." The Dark One added a twirl of his hand to get his point across. "Owww! Unlike you. Easy, sweetheart," he grumbled and sank lower into the water.

          "So what deal did you offer him? And don't bother denying it, Rumpelstiltskin. I know you too well," she chastised.

          "How bad do you want me to tell you?"

          "Well ... I do admit to being curious."

          She was sitting cross-legged behind him as she worked on his back, so she was surprised when he turned over in the tub and snaked his arms around her legs and pulled her forward slightly. "Come into the tub with me, dear one." He dropped a kiss to her ankle and laid his head against her calf, his eyes full of promise.

          The fact he could've used his magic on her to get her to comply, but didn't, made her change her mind. "It's going to take me an hour to peel these leather pants off," she complained as she began to undress.

          "Use your magic," he said in a condescending tone.

          "I don't know," she replied hesitantly.

          "Concentrate on what you want and make it happen."

          Her clothes vanished piece by piece instead of all at one time the way he did it, but at least she succeeded at a task he'd set for her that day. She was feeling rather pleased with herself as she sank down into the water to sit on the bench built into the side of the tub he'd vacated for her. She made him turn around once more and pulled him back against her, so she could wrap her arms around his chest and her legs around his waist, completely enveloping him in her embrace. He sighed his pleasure and relaxed against her, letting his head fall against her shoulder.

          "You're right," she said, swirling her tongue against the sweet spot beneath his ear. "This  _is_  much better. Now tell me about the deal you offered Charming."

          "I, uh ... I kind of stole the engagement ring he'd planned on giving to Snow and enchanted it so he'd have no trouble finding her. He's the only one who will be able to break the sleeping curse - being Snow's true love -and all. Gods, Belle, that's distracting," he growled as her hand slipped lower across the firm plane of his stomach. "So, I offered to return his ring  _and_  get him out of the forest if he'd do just one wee favor for me."

          Belle rested her chin on his shoulder and crooked a brow at him in askance. "One  _wee_  favor? Since when is a request from you ever small? Disastrous, monumental, or depraved, yes. Wee, no."

          He had the nerve to look affronted. "Depraved? I think not. I'm hurt you would even suggest such a thing."

          She nipped the side of his neck with her teeth and then kissed the spot to soothe it. "Oh, come off it. What was the favor?"

          He turned in her arms, so he could see her face, serious of a sudden.  "You remember the potion? The one I made from strands of hair I obtained from Snow and her prince?" Belle nodded. "I had him put it in a safe place so when the curse hits, the potion will be transported to the land without magic to be retrieved when the time is right."

          Her fingers toyed with the ends of his hair as she thought it over. "And just why didn't you hide it yourself? Why did you need Charming to do it for you?"

          "Have you ever heard of the witch who resides in the Forbidden Fortress? Maleficent?"

          "Isn't she the witch you procured the unicorn foal for? The one with the affinity for the color purple?" she asked, vaguely remembering the blonde.

          "Exactly. Did you know she could transform into a dragon?" he asked slyly. She could see the imp trying to emerge in his excitement.

          "Oh, Rumpel, you didn't. Did you trap that poor woman? With an egg in her gullet?" She was really trying not to laugh, her teeth worrying her lower lip. She didn't harbor any gentle feelings for the witch, and could only think it would've been more fitting to trap Regina in such a state instead.

          "I did."

          "Did you give Charming back his ring?"

          His lips hovered over hers as he pulled her against him, tired of conversation. "I did."

          "And my letter for Snow?" she asked, his mouth swallowing her question as his tongue dipped into her mouth to taste her. He hummed in response and she lost herself in his kiss. He'd answer the rest of her questions eventually.

 

*.*.*

 

**Forty-eight hours until "I do" …**

 

          "Quickly, sweetheart, where would you like to have the actual ceremony? The lake, the garden, or the ballroom?"

          Belle's head shot up, the book she held tumbling to the floor. "We have a ballroom? Why do we have a ballroom? Better yet, why have I never  _seen_  the ballroom?" How could she not have seen it, she wondered. She thought she'd seen them all ... unless it was one of the rooms Rumpelstiltskin kept locked. Why would he lock up the ballroom? "Rumpel -"

_Poof._

          Belle turned back to her book and began to read once more.

 _Poof._  "What kind of flowers would you like, love?" he asked suddenly next to her ear as he leaned over the back of the sofa and eyed her expectantly. She was thankfully able to hold onto her flash of magic. She really didn't want any more damage done to the Dark Castle with company soon to arrive.

          "Roses?"

          "Red?"

          "Don't we have a lovely hybrid in the garden in a peach tone? I'm having ..." she slammed the book closed and turned to face him. "I'm not telling you what my dress looks like!"

          "I believe we do. Flowers for the arch," he persisted. "Why? Are there roses on your dress?"

          "Oh! Peach colored roses. Those will be lovely. And I'm still not telling you anything about my dress. You will see it soon enough tomorrow afternoon."

_Poof._

          Belle magicked a tea service onto the low table set before the sofa and prepared his chipped cup full of tea, handing it to him as he  _poofed_ back into the room and sat beside her. "Why are you testing my sanity this morning, Rumpel? I told you we don't need to do anything fancy for our wedding. We only need each other and the minister ... and Jefferson. It would be just wrong to get married without him there as a witness. God's bones, Rumpel, please tell me you procured a minister," she cried, panic lacing her tone.

_Poof._

 

**Forty-six hours until "I do" …**

 

          "Again, why are we  _walking_  to the village?" he grumbled, kicking at a rock in his path on the dirt road which led to the village halfway down the mountain. "We could have been there already if you'd let me use magic."

          Belle simply smiled sweetly at him and laced her fingers with his. "That's the point, Rumpel. There's nothing wrong with using our own two feet to walk the two miles to the village. You've been magicking all over the castle this morning and I'd like to spend more than two seconds at a time with you."

          It was true. He was doing all the wedding preparations himself, refusing to let her lift a finger to help. But she would not bend when it came to her wedding dress. She wanted it to be a surprise as per tradition and she wasn't backing down. He was wearing himself thin trying to make everything perfect for her, but she didn't want anything elaborate. She just wanted it over.

          She wanted to be bound to him by the laws of the realm, in a ceremony she'd dreamed about since she was old enough to know what marriage was. And now she was marrying for love instead of alliance and she couldn't be happier. They would be bound in every way possible. They  _would_  have their happy ending.

          "I'm sorry I couldn't invite your entire kingdom to be present for your wedding, dear one. People hear my name and they run for the hills," he said with a shrill laugh, but it lacked the usual mocking undertone. She glanced at him sharply. He was actually upset he couldn't provide guests for their wedding. "Belle, sweetheart, are you absolutely certain you want to go through with this?"

          She stopped in the middle of the road and threw her arms around his neck. Her hands stroked his hair and she left sweet nibbling kisses on his lips. "I want nothing more than to be your wife, live in your heart, and share your life." She placed her finger to his lips when he began to protest. "I don't care if people shun me for the rest of my life as long as you promise _you_  won't." She linked her arm through his and tugged him along behind her.

          He gazed at her thoughtfully for a long moment as they continued down the mountain. "I don't remember you being quite so pushy and bossy when I first brought you home to the Dark Castle."

          Belle laughed merrily as she remembered. "Of course, not. I was terrified at first. It took some time for me to realize the stories about you were greatly exaggerated."

          "You saw right through me, didn't you?"

          "I did. Even when you would deliberately do things to frighten me."

          He brought her hand to his lips and placed an open-mouthed kiss on her palm, sending gooseflesh dancing along her arm. "I love you, my Belle," he told her, his warm amber gaze revealing his heart to her.

          Belle froze in fear as she heard a shrill mocking voice behind them. "So, it's true then. The Dark One has found his true love. A princess, no less."

          She felt Rumpelstiltskin stiffen at her side, a low growl rumbling in his chest. Turning, she leveled her stare at the fairy and smiled sweetly. "Yes, I used to be a princess. What has that to do with anything?"

          "You are throwing your life away to dwell in darkness. How could you choose evil over good? Even now I can sense his unholy power within you. Did you willingly choose to be bonded to him in such a way? To give up your soul?" The Blue Fairy asked, sneering at Belle and raising the hackles on the imp's neck.

          "Rheul Ghorm, begone from this place. No one cares for your holier-than-thou opinions. You want everyone to believe you are nothing but goodness and light when you're just as capable of evil as I am," he snarled, trying to keep a rein on his temper in Belle's presence.

          Blue turned back to Belle, her eyes pleading. "Please, princess, I can help you escape his influence. There is a way out for you if you wish it."

          Belle narrowed her eyes, vexed that anyone could ask her to give up her true love. "Would you ask Snow to give up Charming? Would you ask Aurora to give up Phillip or Ariel to give up Eric?" she asked in horror. "How could you ask me to give up Rumpelstiltskin?"

          "The Dark One is incapable of love," she answered, convinced the girl was a simpleton.

          "See, that's where you are wrong. The Dark One is just what everyone sees, it's what he wants everyone to see. To me, he shows his true self. Something you will never be able to comprehend with your small minded, self-righteous, fairy mentality." With that, Belle turned on her heel and stalked off towards the village.

          Rumpelstiltskin rubbed his thumb and forefinger together, wondering if he might be able to zap the little jellyfish nuisance, then thought better of it. Bowing low to her in one of his mocking bows, he turned to follow Belle. "Very well said, dearie. You're learning." He stared at her with a look of awe and wonder.

          "Why are you looking at me like that?"

          "No one has ever stood up for me like that before. Not even when I was human," he confessed.

          "Well, I meant every word."

          He glanced over his shoulder to make sure the fairy hadn't followed them. "You know we probably haven't heard the last from her."

          "Yes, and if I catch her around the castle I'll pin her on the wall and add her to your bug collection," she hissed. Her temper had yet to cool from the confrontation.

          They'd reached the edge of the village when he stopped to pull her into his arms. "My blood-thirsty little sweetheart. I must say, dearie. Marriage to you will never be boring." He dropped a kiss to her lips with a big smack and steered her in the direction of the seamstress' shop to pick up her wedding gown. "Hurry, and finish your shopping, dear heart, so we can go home."

 _Home._  Oh, how he loved the sound of that. The Dark Castle had been cold and forbidding, a place to store his treasures and collections before he'd made his bargain with Belle. Now it was a home.  _She_  was his home.

 

**Thirty-nine hours until "I do" …**

 

          "How do you spin straw into gold?"

          "…"

          "Why do you live in a castle?"

          "…"

          "Are you really getting married tomorrow?"

          "…"

          "Can we have a tea party?"

          Rumpelstiltskin narrowed his eyes and looked into the little girl's wide questioning eyes. "You'll make a lovely wee snail, won't you, Gracie?"

          Jefferson clamped a hand over his daughter's mouth and steered her over to the sofa to greet Belle. "Pay him no mind, Grace. And, yes, we can have a tea party," Belle laughed. Rumpelstiltskin smirked at her and went back to his spinning.

          Jefferson leaned over and gave Belle a loud smacking kiss on her cheek and settled back against the sofa cushions. "So, are you getting nervous?" he asked, waggling his eyebrows at her.

          "Behave, Jeff. And no, I'm not nervous." Belle conjured a tea tray onto the table before the sofa without a second thought. A rosy blush rose to stain her cheeks as the hatter's mouth gaped open in shock and he jumped to his feet to point an accusing finger at her.

          "How'd you do that?"

          Belle smirked up at him and twirled her hand in the air as she'd seen Rumpelstiltskin do countless times and said, "You know ... magic." Rumpel snorted and winked at her.

          "Yes, I can bloody well see that, darling. Would you care to explain?"

          Grace pressed a cup of tea into her father's hands. "I think she's lovely, Papa." She turned to face the imp. "Mr. Stiltskin would you like a cup of tea?"

          He rose from the wheel and sat on the arm of the sofa next to Belle. "Yes, dearie, that would be lovely." Belle beamed at him for being nice to the child. He didn't have anything against children. Actually, he would rather spend time conversing with a child than most adults he knew. He was drawn to their honesty, and they most times reminded him of Bae. Grace was a lovely child, no more than ten years old. Too bad she had her father's habit of speaking incessantly. They must make quite the pair.

          "Lady Belle, will I be able to see your library while I'm visiting? Papa said you have so many books. I love to read."

          Belle smoothed the child's hair and smiled at her. "Of course, dear."

          "Are you going to answer my question?" Jefferson asked huffily.

          "No," her fiancé snapped.

          "Later," Belle whispered from the side of her mouth.

          Belle placed a hand over her stomach and groaned. "Rumpel, I don't feel well."

          He stood up and began stalking toward the door, his eyes turning to pitch as the beast reared its head. "Stay inside. That was the wards you felt rippling. And it's not Snow."

          Belle rose to her feet to follow, ignoring his command. "Then who else could it be? Regina?"

          He stopped at the doors leading into the entryway to meet her worried gaze. "No. It's your father."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/n: Well, this should be interesting.


	22. Chapter 22

          His entire visage changed as the rage built in his chest. Rumpelstiltskin's eyes turned black as pitch as the beast within him roared in fury, his lips curled back from his teeth in a vicious snarl and his clothes transformed into the dragonhide and leather he wore to make his deals. He was every bit the Dark One, the Deal Maker, the Imp as he strode purposefully into the foyer. Only one thought pounded through the red haze of rage building ... no one would take what was his.

          Belle belonged to him, body and soul, blood and magic. He would protect her. He would shield her, and may the gods help whoever got in his way. This man, her father, had set the clerics on his sweet girl despite her innocence. The king was devious and cunning and cared not for his daughter. Only political alliance and he refused to let her be hurt by him ever again.

          The color drained from Belle's face as she ran across the Great Hall to stop Rumpelstiltskin from doing something they would both later regret, throwing over her shoulder, "Jefferson, take Grace to the garden. She does  _not_  need to see this."

          "What about me? I don't want to miss this," he protested, torn between what was best for his daughter and wanting to witness the scene in the front courtyard.

          "Jefferson!" she admonished as she hiked up her skirts and ran after her betrothed. He was stalking through the foyer like he was heading into battle. In all the time she'd known him, she'd never seen him this furious and she was frightened for her father. "Rumpelstiltskin, stop," she called to him. She briefly thought about the dagger. She couldn't bring herself to command him to listen to her. She wanted him to listen because he wanted to, not because he was forced. It would be a complete breach of trust on her part, a betrayal of sorts and she mentally cursed him for putting the temptation in her path.

          Maurice pulled his mount to a halt and regarded the Dark One who had stolen his daughter for a second time. He motioned for the four knights flanking him to stand down as he dismounted and stepped to the front to face Rumpelstiltskin. Belle was nearly out of breath when she finally reached him. The insane giggle, the condescending mockery, the flamboyant gestures were gone, replaced by blind fury as he faced down her father, his fingers twitching at his sides and ready to unleash his magic.

          Belle ran around him to block his path, her eyes pleading. He looked down at her as she braced her hands lightly on his chest, her touch bringing him back to himself. "Please, Rumpel. Please don't hurt him." She fought to catch her breath after her mad dash across the courtyard. “I know you want revenge against him, but this is not the way, my love. Please.”

          His eyes faded from black to a golden bronze. He was still holding on to his fury, but at least now he was regaining his control. He lifted his hand to stroke her cheek, his eyes closing in pleasure at the softness of her skin. "Belle," he whispered. "Go back inside, dear one, and let me deal with this."

          She raised her hands to tug gently at the ends of his hair and he caught them, rubbing his thumbs over her palms and growling deeply in his throat. "Please. Just let me talk to him. I'm sure he didn't come all this way to cause trouble. Please," she begged.

          He looked down at her in disbelief. "Belle, he hurt you. He may not have done it with his own hands, but he _violated_ you, he betrayed your trust and he held you prisoner. I cannot let this stand."

          She lowered her eyes and ducked her head in defeat. "Are ... are we going to have to make a deal, you and I?" she asked softly.

          His resolve crumbled when he noticed the wetness at the corner of her eyes and sighed in defeat. "This really means so much to you?"

          "Yes," she said, stroking his hair to soothe him. "Yes, it does. It may very well be the last I ever see of him. I just want to talk."

          Rumpelstiltskin ground his teeth together in frustration, not wanting the man anywhere near his darling Belle who was trying so valiantly to calm the beast. He must be getting soft, because damned if she wasn't succeeding. The rage was still simmering below the surface, but he hid it well. He'd had centuries to perfect the blank look he gave her. "Rules. You may invite him in for tea. He may have one hour of your time. One hour, Belle, no more. I will remain at your side at all times. And the first tear I see you shed ... " he let his voice trail off, the threat hanging in the charged air between them. "And don't even think to ask if he may stay for the wedding."

          She pressed her brow to his and let him pull her closer. "Thank you."

          Belle turned to face her father, yet retained a firm grip on Rumpelstiltskin's hand. "Won't you join us for tea, Papa?"

          Maurice tried to keep the look of disgust off his features as he watched his only daughter fawn over the creature who had stolen her from him. He left Gaston, who'd insisted on accompanying him on this trip, with the other knights and followed after Belle and her beast.

          He was coming to regret his decision to find her and beg her to come home. After watching their affectionate display, it was clear now she was ruined beyond hope. She would never be able to marry a good and decent man, and all hopes of her making a match to form alliances were out the question.

          Rumpelstiltskin led Belle to his own seat at the long dining table and pulled the chair out for her to sit. With a jaunty wave of his hand, he summoned tea for her and took up a position of protection behind her chair, his eyes never leaving the king. "Rumpel, my love, you don't have to stay. I'll be fine here for a while talking to my father."

          He quirked a dubious brow at her. "I think not. I will remain," he grumbled, seconds away from snarling at the king.

          She sighed deeply, weariness crushing her chest, and turned to face her father. "Why are you here, Papa? I thought I made it clear to you I was returning home to Rumpel, despite your attempts to thwart me. You said you thought I was under some sort of spell and wanted nothing to do with me."

          "Belle, I —" Maurice began. Rumpel growled low in his throat as he paced behind Belle, his boots echoing on the stones in the stillness of the hall. It seemed the very air waited with bated breath under the scrutiny of the Dark One and his anger.

          The king eyed him warily, his eyes darting back and forth between the imp and his daughter. "I'm sorry, Belle. I want you to come home. You told me he let you go, so there should be nothing holding you back. Come home and be with your family."

          Belle snorted softly and grabbed Rumpelstiltskin's hand to stop his pacing. He nodded at her almost imperceptibly and lounged against the back of the chair, curling one of her long chestnut curls around his finger and glaring at Maurice. "Papa, I am home.  _Rumpelstiltskin_  is my home. He has been for a long time. Why can't you see I genuinely love him?"

          "He's bewitched you, my girl," her father insisted adamantly. "If you came home and were no longer under his influence, you wouldn't feel that way. And it's not like I could marry you off anymore, ruined as you are."

          And that's how Maurice ended up as a snail tracking his way across the floor, Rumpelstiltskin finally having had enough. He stepped forward and raised his boot, pausing in mid-squash as Belle grabbed his arm, her eyes pleading with him.

          "Rumpel, no," Belle protested, wrinkling her nose at what had been her father moments ago. "You can't squash him," she said, rising and standing between the snail and her love. "I know he's a rude, belligerent ass, but he's still my father. Our kingdom depends on his sovereignty."

          "I do not condone such behavior from  _guests_  in our home," he snarled, the word bitter on his tongue. He drew her against his chest and buried his face in her hair, fighting against his need to destroy, to crush, to annihilate. He drank her in, her touch, her smell, her very presence soothing him. He felt the wards ripple once more. "Fine. I will go see to our visitors while you handle this problem."

          Belle hugged him about his waist, her hands lingering for a moment too long before he left her. She was relieved, however, when she turned again, and her father had been restored. "I'm getting married tomorrow, Papa." She held up her hand to cut off his protests. "I am marrying the man I love, the man I want to spend the rest of my life with, my true love. I'm sorry you aren't able to accept that and I'm sorry I can't have your blessing. I know how much you loved my mother. You should wish for me to have nothing less. I am your daughter, not a political chess piece, Papa. I choose my own fate, my own happiness and I'm sorry you've never loved me enough to see that."

          "I've only ever wanted the best for you," he argued weakly.

          "I know. But you should have wanted to take into consideration what I thought was best for myself. After the sacrifice I made by coming here with Rumpel in the first place, you should realize I know what's best for me." A single tear slid down her face in grief that her father was such an unyielding man, but she wiped it away on the back of her hand. "I'm happy, Papa. I wish you could be happy for me, too."

          "Belle —"

          She hugged her father and smiled sadly. "There are those with noble heart who wear a mask to disguise their true beauty, and those who possess beauty who are rotten to the core. It is our duty to discover inner worth." Let him think long and hard on the last advice she could freely give him. "Goodbye, Papa."

 

*.*.*

 

          Rumpelstiltskin snorted softly and let the wheel turn slowly under his hand. Little Grace sat on a cushion in front of the low table between the two sofas, enraptured with the idea of having a tea party with so many guests. Charming was deep in discussion with Jefferson about the plan for him and Snow to retake their respective kingdoms and merge them into one. But it was the three ladies on the sofa nearest his spinning wheel which held his attention.

          The little wolf girl had accompanied Snow and her prince to the Dark Castle, insisting she be allowed to meet the woman who had captured Rumpelstiltskin's dark heart. Of course, Belle had taken an instant shine to the girl. At least that would be one more guest for the wedding, he thought happily, smiling at his bride-to-be. It was a relief to see the smile return to her face after the disastrous visit with her father.

          By this time tomorrow, Belle would be his wife and then nothing would be able to come between them. In less than a year, the curse would be cast, taking them to the land where he would find his son and they could be a family. It wouldn't be long before everything he'd worked for would be his, his and Belle's and Bae's. He was so lost in thought, he didn't realize Belle had risen and come to his side until he felt her tentative hand on his shoulder.

          "Alright, my love?" she asked, taking the straw from his hand and setting it aside so she could sit on his lap. "You look a bit distracted," she murmured as she laid her head on his shoulder and tugged on the ends of his hair. "But then you always look distracted when you spin."

          "I was just thinking I need to go out for a bit and I don't relish the idea of leaving you," he said softly against her hair, his arms tightening about her waist.

          She nuzzled the side of his neck. "Ah, another of your mysterious deals," she teased.

          "Actually, no. I have to see to your wedding gift."

          Belle lifted her head to look at him, her eyes twinkling with excitement. "Oh, I'm so glad you reminded me," she said, hopping off his lap and going to the glass cabinets which held his treasures.

          He rose from the wheel to follow her. "What are you on about now, dearie?"

          She ignored the question and stepped up on a stool, so she could reach behind something on the third shelf and pull down a small wrapped gift box. He took her elbow and helped her off the stool, so she wouldn't fall. "I have a wedding gift for you as well," she replied brightly, her smile blinding as she beamed up at him.

          "For me?"

          Her smile faltered a bit as she took in the raw emotion on his face. Apparently, he wasn't used to someone giving him a gift without asking something in return. "Yes, for you. When I saw it through the jeweler’s window, I knew it was perfect for you and I had to get it."

          He smirked at her, amused by her anticipation. She rubbed her hands together in a way which reminded him of his own actions when deal making. He tore the shimmering silver paper from the box and lifted the lid. The quiet murmur of his guests faded to nothing as he felt his heart thrum in his ears. Nestled in the box was a gold pocket watch, a spinning wheel etched on its lid. He didn't know what to say, or if he  _could_  say anything around the lump of emotion forming in his throat. The great Rumpelstiltskin, known for his sarcastic wit, had been rendered speechless.

          "Open it, love," she urged as she lifted her hand to brush a tear from his face. He did as she asked and gasped. Engraved on the inside of the lid were two words.  _Forever, Belle_. That was all she'd had to say. He crushed her to him, burying his face in the crook of her neck, refusing to let his guests see the all-powerful Dark One reduced to tears over a gift.

          "Belle …"

          "I love you, my Rumpel. Forever," she whispered into the shell of his ear, her lips soft as they kissed the lobe.

          "I can't wait to marry you tomorrow, my Belle. I love you so much." And he kissed her, a deep lingering kiss which had Jefferson snickering and covering Grace's eyes and had the women blushing and 'awwing' at the pair. Charming dropped his head in his hands, wishing he were with his army planning the next battle, or anywhere he didn't have to witness the Dark One having a soft moment.

 

*.*.*

 

**Twenty hours until "I do" …**

         

          Belle smiled and laid back against the pillows in the very center of Rumpelstiltskin's bed. Snow White was on her right, their hands clasped tightly and Red on her left, propped up on her elbow. Rumpelstiltskin had taken Jefferson and Charming with him on some mysterious errand mumbling something about oysters. So, the girls had tucked Grace into bed in Jefferson's room and laid claim to Rumpelstiltskin's bedchamber. Belle was really trying to relax, but the excitement building within her had her giddy. Although the giddiness might also have something to do with the amount of elf-made wine the ladies were drinking.

          "I still can't believe you're marrying Rumpelstiltskin," Red said, sitting up and reaching for her wine on the nightstand.

          "Oh, hush, Red. I already told you their story on the way here. You don't need Belle to repeat it," Snow scolded gently. "I'm just happy we were able to be here."

          Belle squeezed her hand affectionately. "I am, too. And you too, Red."

          Red waved her hand dismissively. "I just had to see the woman to bring the Dark One to his knees," she chuckled, waggling her eyebrows and grinning. "I just have one question. How did you do it?"

          A rosy blush settled into Belle's face. "We fell in love. Granted, he fought it tooth and  _claw_  ... but finally he stopped fighting it. It was just unbelievable to him I could really love him."

          "I think it's amazing. He's so different," Snow said, sipping her wine.

          "He's softer, and you can see how much he loves you when he looks at you. It's written all over his little lizard face," Red sighed with a dreamy smile. "I hope I meet someone who looks at me like that ... someday. Peter used to look at me like that."

          "Who is Peter?" Belle asked.

          "He was my boyfriend. I ate him before I got control over my inner wolf."

          Belle's eyes widened in alarm. "You ate him?" she asked incredulously.

          "Yeah. But I didn't know at the time the wolf attacking our village was me. It's a long story."

          "Oh ... oh I'm so ... so sorry," Belle murmured, not really sure how to respond.

          Red set her wine glass back on the nightstand and leaned forward conspiratorially. "So, Belle ... I bet Rumpelstiltskin is a beast in bed, huh?"

          "Red!"

          "Oh, gods!" Snow exclaimed, covering her mouth with her hand to stifle a laugh. "I do not want that mental picture."

          "Ooh, I do," Belle breathed with a contented sigh. "Let me just say, Rumpel has many sides to his personality. And I enjoy each and every one."

          Their laughter was cut short as the object of their discussion chose that moment to walk into his bedchamber, disheveled and soaking wet. He needed a bath and was in the process of stripping off his leather vest when he noticed the giggles coming from his bed. He froze, his brows disappearing into his hairline.

          "Well, well, what have we here? Do my eyes deceive me or have I somehow won a harem to add to my collection of treasures?" he asked, flopping onto the end of the bed and making the girls shriek. “How fortuitous.”

          Belle sat up and smiled at him. "No, love. No harem for you."

          "Pity. So how did I end up with the three most beautiful women in the realm lounging in my boudoir?"

          "Because we've taken over your bedchamber for the evening. You can have it back tomorrow after the wedding." His eyes widened at Snow's words.

          "What do you mean 'taken it over'?" he growled. "You can't toss me out of my own rooms."

          Belle's toes brushed against the wetness seeping into the blankets from his wet clothes and she squealed. "Rumpel, you're getting the bed soaked. Why are you wet?"

          He pulled a small leather pouch from his pocket and dumped the contents on the bed before her, loose diamonds and pearls glittering and sparkling in the candlelight. With a bit of magic, they transformed into a necklace. "Your wedding present, sweetheart."

          "Oh, Rumpel, this is exquisite. And it will be perfect with my dress." Belle threw her arms around him, not caring if the front of her nightdress was getting wet. "Thank you," she said, peppering his face with kisses. "I love it." More kisses. "And I love you."

          It was Snow and Red's turn to blush at such an affectionate and loving display. Rumpelstiltskin rose from the bed and bowed to the ladies before disappearing into the bathing chamber. Belle ran her fingers lovingly over her gift and rose to follow. "I suppose I'm to be banished to my laboratory for the evening, hmm?" he asked as he sank into the steaming water.

          "It's just for one night, Rumpel," she smiled coyly.

          "One more night. I've just gotten used to sleeping with you wrapped around me," he pouted.

          She dropped to her knees next to the tub and cupped his face in her hands, drawing him in for a kiss. "Just one night, love. And then we'll never have to sleep apart again," she breathed against his lips.

          He indulged her with sipping kisses and nibbles and resigned himself to being without her for the evening. It was going to be a long night.

 

*.*.*

 

**Five hours until "I do" …**

 

          Jefferson smiled at his daughter as she sat at the long dining table tearing rose petals from the stems of two dozen roses in preparation of her role as flower girl. This was the first time he'd ever brought her to the Dark Castle with him and she seemed to really be enjoying herself. He wondered if he should be concerned with how Grace had taken an instant liking to Rumpelstiltskin. He was the Dark One, the Deal Maker, Evil Incarnate, yet she thought he was  _nice._  He prayed his little daughter refrained from telling the imp that to his face. He cringed and stuck his finger in his ear as the third boom, in the course of two hours, rocked the castle.

          Charming jumped up from the sofa and glared at the high arched ceiling. "What is going on up there?" he asked through clenched teeth. "Do you think the girls are alright?"

          "Cool your heels, princeling. Rumpel was expelled from his bedchamber last night, doomed to spend the evening in his laboratory. Now he's mixing potions. Due to his nerves, he's not making good progress. Would you rather him come down here to  _entertain_  you?" Jefferson asked, his deep voice dripping with sarcasm.

          "No, not necessary," the prince said, resuming his seat on the sofa.

          Jefferson grinned and sipped his tea. "I thought not."

 

**Four hours until "I do" …**

 

 _She's going to get cold feet. She's going to change her mind. She's going to back out at the last minute. What if she doesn't like the ballroom, or the decorations, or the bloody cake?!_  Those were just a few of the insecurities pounding through Rumpelstiltskin's skull as he paced the floorboards in his tower laboratory.

          He'd already run Jefferson out three times today in his frustration. He knew the hatter only meant well and had wanted to offer his company and inane conversation to help him deal with the stress, but he didn't want his friend. He wanted his Belle. He needed to know she was still going to go through with this wedding. What woman in her right mind would want to marry him? Especially one so beautiful and kind and pure and sweet ... and he was going to lose his mind if he didn't see her immediately.

          He pounded down the tower stairs and emerged on the floor where their bedchamber was located, crashing into the door when it didn't open at his silent command.  _What the hell? Why was his door locked? He was bloody well locked out of his own chamber!_  He pounded on the door with a closed fist. "Belle! Belle, I need to see you right now!" he shouted through the barrier.

          Red shouted back through the locked door, "Sorry, Rump, you can't see her till the ceremony. Those are the rules."

          His mouth fell open in shock, not just from the name she'd used, but also that she was issuing orders in  _his_  castle. His eyes narrowed, and his lip curled back in a sneer. "How would you like to be running around for the next month as a cocker spaniel, dearie? Open the damned door and let me talk to Belle."

          "Sorry. Rules are rules," she sing-songed in a honey-sweet voice, completely ignoring his threat.

          He was ready to unleash his magic against the oak door when he finally heard Belle's tinkling laugh on the other side admonishing her friend for teasing him. Just the sound of her voice seemed to calm him. She opened the door and pulled him inside by his hand before lovingly wrapping him in her embrace.

          "What is it, Rumpel? Tell me what's wrong." She shooed Red back into the bathing chamber with Snow, promising she'd return in a moment and led him over to the settee in their sitting room and made him sit. He pulled her down onto his lap and buried his face in the crook of her neck.

          He sighed his contentment against her ivory throat. "I just needed to see you." He pulled back to look at her and felt his brows draw together in a frown. He lifted one chestnut lock between his fingers. "Is this a new fashion?" Half of her hair was artfully styled at her crown in ringlets and the other half was down about her shoulders.

          "No, darling. Snow and Red were in the middle of arranging my coiffure when you started pounding on the door," she said dryly, her hand stroking his hair in an attempt to soothe him. If it was possible, he would have purred. "Now, tell me what's wrong. I heard the explosions, so I know your concentration is off. Tell me."

          "Are you certain this is what you want ... to marry me? I want to know if you're going to get cold feet halfway down the aisle and leave me standing at the altar," he forced the words out over the lump in his throat. "I can understand why you wouldn't want to go through with it, and —"

          She placed her finger to his lips to halt the insecurities and anguished cries spewing from his mouth. "Stop. Rumpel, look at me, love." Belle tipped his chin up, so he could meet her gaze and she didn't like what she saw there. He was scared, his heart in his eyes, a heart which was bleeding and exposed and raw. "Take a deep breath," she commanded softly, her voice low and gentle as she ran her nails over his scalp. He sighed contentedly. "Good. Now another."

          "Belle …"

          She continued to pet him and gaze into his warm amber eyes as she spoke. "Everything is going to be fine. In four hours, I will be standing  _with you_  at the altar pledging my undying love and binding myself to you for all eternity. Whatever you have been torturing yourself with for the last few hours needs to be laid aside." She kissed the corner of his mouth. "I love you, Rumpelstiltskin. That's not going to change. I'm not going to leave you." She deepened the kiss and felt the anxiety leave him.

          "I love you, too, my Belle."

          Snow appeared in the doorway leading into the bathing chamber, hairbrush in hand. "Belle, we really need to get done with your hair."

          "I'll be right there," she said to her friend. She smiled brightly at her groom and kissed him once more before climbing off his lap. "Now, go get dressed."

          He watched her skip off to finish her toilette, smiling for the first time that day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Alright, dearies! Next chapter is the wedding! I'm so excited and can't wait to hear the vows. Oh, and did I forget to mention there are mirrors in the ballroom? Hmmmm. Stay tuned. Next chapter will be out tomorrow … promise.


	23. Chapter 23

**Thirty-seven minutes until "I do" …**

 

          "Did you get it?" Belle asked, unable to disguise the excitement in her voice. She had a surprise for Rumpelstiltskin and she didn't want anything to ruin it.

          Jefferson held up his hand, a vial of sparkling gold dust held between his fingers. "Might I ask why you want this? Your groom was bursting with questions when I asked him for it."

          "It's a surprise."

          "But …"

          "Go wait for me in the sitting room, Jeff. I won't be much longer." Belle disappeared back into the bathing chamber with her co-conspirators, closing the door behind her with a snap.

 

**Twenty-five minutes until "I do" …**

 

          Rumpelstiltskin surveyed the ballroom with a satisfied smile. The room positively glowed with soft candlelight, the mirrors gleaming upon the walls at intervals between polished marble pillars. The floor had been buffed and shone brightly. And even the ceiling with its painted cherubs smiling down upon them had been cleaned. He had set up a table for after the ceremony, buffet-style and laden with every delicacy he could imagine, several of them Belle's favorite. A long white carpet ran through the middle of the floor leading out onto the veranda where the actual ceremony would take place. It was long and wide and offered a spectacular view of the snow-peaked mountain.

          He'd chosen sunset for their wedding so as they recited their vows, the sun would be disappearing behind the mountain, blessing them with its last rays of the day. He'd placed a lattice arch in the very center and covered it with Belle's favorite peach-colored roses as she'd requested. Everything was in readiness. All that was missing was the bride. Where the hell was the bride?

          He lovingly caressed the pocket watch Belle had gifted him and checked the time again, the third time in the last five minutes. He held the watch to his ear to make sure it hadn't stopped. What was taking so long?  

          The minister he'd procured from the village cowered beneath the arch, trying to make himself small so as not to draw Rumpelstiltskin's notice. Charming was trying his best to put the cleric at ease. Rumpelstiltskin would rather have Jefferson perform the ceremony than the minister, hating all clerics as he did, but he didn't think Belle would have gone for that idea.

          What did this ceremony matter when he'd already bonded her to him by blood? He sighed. He was a wreck and trying very hard not to show it. He checked the time again and cursed. Ten minutes? Really?

          Jefferson was to escort her down the aisle, taking the place of her father in the ceremony. But he was also the best man. Why not? The hatter was the closest thing to a friend he had. He looked down at the hand offering him a flask and then up into Charming's smiling face.

          "You look like you could use a drink," Charming said with a crooked grin. "You have that panicked, nervous, bridegroom glaze to your eyes."

          Rumpelstiltskin glowered at the prince, but took the flask and drank several swallows down before handing it back.

          "Nervous?"

          "Of course not, no," he denied, fidgeting with his cravat.

          "Do you remember your vows?"

          "Yes, shepherd, I remember my bloody vows!"

          The prince took in the imp's appearance, quite surprised he'd turned himself out so elegantly ... and not a hint of leather, well except for the boots. He looked like a true gentleman in his navy-blue breeches which disappeared into his black leather knee high boots. White shirt, navy brocade waistcoat and a peach colored jacket with white and gold trim completed the ensemble. He was certain Belle would be pleased with him.

 

**Ten minutes until "I do" …**

 

          "Gods, Belle, you look incredible. I thought the gold dust was going to be a bit strange, but ... wow!" Red looked as though she were about to cry.

          Snow fastened the pearl and diamond necklace around Belle's throat and stood back to take her in. "Are you certain you want to wear the gold bracelets? I think it would be more flattering to have your wrists bare."

          Belle thought they were perfect. She'd suffered for those cuffs and they weren't going anywhere even if they could be removed. They were a part of her, a part of her Rumpel and they would remain forever like their love. "Well, Jefferson, what do you think?"

          There were actual tears in his eyes as he bent down to kiss her cheek. "I think Rumpelstiltskin is the luckiest man alive. You are lovely, my darling girl."

          Belle gazed at her reflection in the mirror and had to fight back tears of happiness. The team of seamstresses in the village were true masters of their craft to have created her dress in only six days and she couldn't wait for her groom to see it. It was almost an exact replica of the gold ball gown she'd worn the night she'd made her deal with the Dark One to go with him forever. With a few exceptions.

          Where there had been beading along the bodice and hem, now there were peach rosettes and embroidered leaves. It was perfect and hopefully it would mean as much to Rumpelstiltskin as it did to her. Her hair was artfully arranged in ringlets atop her head and adorned with peach colored roses from the garden. The only jewelry she wore was the pearl and diamond necklace, her betrothal ring, and her gold bracelets. She wanted nothing to detract from the dress.

          Snow and Red flanked her in the mirror, each of her friends having donned the strapless baby blue ball gowns Rumpelstiltskin had gifted them with. "If we don't go, we're going to end up crying," Snow said, her voice breaking with emotion.

          "I'm ready," Belle breathed and took Jefferson's proffered arm, ready to begin the next chapter of her life.

 

**FINALLY!**

 

          "Music please," Jefferson called from the open doorway of the ballroom where he waited with the bride.  _Snap!_ Unmanned instruments begin playing Pachelbel's Canon in D Minor. "Thank you!"

 _I swear I should have prepared a full tray of escargot for the buffet!_  Rumpelstiltskin thought irritably and rolled his eyes, impatient to begin. Little Grace came down the aisle first, tossing rose petals onto the carpet.  _Sweet little munchkin._ Then Red.  _Gods! This wolf girl runs full out through the forest three times a month and she's slower than a snail coming down the aisle._  He rocked back on his heels in annoyance. Then it was Snow's turn, who kept her eyes on Charming with a goofy grin curving her perfect rosebud mouth the whole time.  _Move it along, Princess Drag-Your-Feet!_

          And then Jefferson stepped onto the end of the dazzling white carpet with Belle at his side and Rumpelstiltskin forgot how to breathe, forgot his name, and forgot about his curse as she filled his vision. He could already feel the tears gathering in his eyes as he took her in. It was no wonder she hadn't wanted him to see the dress beforehand. She was perfect. In his eyes she rivaled Venus, Aphrodite and even Luna, the moon goddess. And she belonged to him. In that moment, he'd never felt more unworthy of such a gift and he promised himself he would spend every day of eternity trying to show her how much he loved her.

          Her eyes showed her happiness, her love, and a hint of mischief. Mischief? The candlelight caught her skin and she glowed. She was a golden goddess, her skin covered in a light sheen of gold dust and Jefferson’s odd request from earlier in the evening became clear. Belle had wanted her skin to resemble his, and it did, only without the green tint.

          He brushed away a tear as Jefferson placed her hand in his. The minister began. "Who gives this woman to this ... man?"

          "I do," Jefferson said softly, smiling down at his friends.

          "Are you her father?" the minister asked with a puzzled frown.

          "Really? Do I look old enough to be her father? I happen to be her dearest friend in the world." Jefferson snorted and took his place directly behind Rumpelstiltskin to fulfill his role as the imp's best man.

          Rumpelstiltskin raised Belle's hand to his lips and brushed a kiss to her knuckles as the minister ignored Jefferson and proceeded with the ceremony. The groom didn't hear half of what the cleric droned on about, so wrapped up in his bride as he was. He couldn't look away from her clear jewel-bright eyes, so filled with love. Jefferson had to nudge him between his shoulder blades to draw his attention away from Belle.

          "Vows, man," Jefferson hissed.

          He shot an irritated glance over his shoulder to make his displeasure known before giving his full attention to his bride. "I, Rumpelstiltskin, take you  _my_  Belle, to be my wife." He stepped closer to her and laid his hand aside her cheek, rubbing gently with the pad of his thumb. "When you promised to come with me forever, I didn't know you were going to claw your way into my heart, into my soul and shine your light where before, for centuries, there had only been darkness. You make me want to remake myself into someone worthy of your love, for it is truly a gift. I will always be there to catch you when you fall as long as you fall into my arms. Forever, dearest. My life, my heart, my very soul, are forever yours."

          Unmindful of the tears falling freely down her face, she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. She didn't pay attention to the clearing of throats or the shuffling of feet from her guests. Jefferson leaned around Rumpelstiltskin's shoulder and whispered loudly. "Belle! We haven't come to that part yet, love." Rumpelstiltskin elbowed the hatter in his ribs. Belle finally released Rumpelstiltskin and stepped back, a blush rising to stain her cheeks.

          "Belle, you may now recite your vows," the minister intoned.

          She worried her bottom lip between her teeth and then cleared her throat over the raw emotion choking her. "I, Belle, take you, Rumpelstiltskin, my beast, my love, my Dark One, to be my husband. You took me as a part of a deal and you saved my kingdom. But more importantly, you saved  _me_. You showed me kindness and gentleness and made me see I was more than a useless ornament. You showed me your true self and let me into your heart a little each day until I was consumed by your love even when you didn't realize it. I love every part of you. You warm me from the inside out until I feel I will burst with happiness. Before you, I could only know love from what I read in my books. I love you, my Rumpel. I will love you until my dying breath and I promise every day of forever. I give you my heart, my life and my soul and I promise to guard yours always."

          Rumpelstiltskin drew her to him and brushed his lips to hers. Snow and Red were crying. Charming was sniffling and trying to hide it. Jefferson was blowing his nose into a handkerchief and mumbling, "Beautiful. Just beautiful."

          The minister cleared his throat. He cleared it again. Finally, "Do you have the rings?"

          Jefferson dug into his breast pocket, his waistcoat pocket, and the pockets in his breeches. Rumpelstiltskin began glaring menacingly at him. He found them in the inside pocket of his waistcoat.  _How many pockets does he have?_  He handed them to the minister to be blessed. Grace yawned loudly, drawing an apologetic grin from her father.

          Rumpelstiltskin took the band from the minister, the band Rumpelstiltskin had lovingly spun into a perfect circle for his Belle, and slipped it onto her finger above her betrothal ring. "With this ring, I pledge thee my troth, my love and my everlasting faithfulness."

          Belle took the other band and slipped it onto his finger and kissed this spot where it now rested, where it would rest for eternity. "With this ring, I pledge thee my troth, my love and my everlasting faithfulness."

          Hands clasped, they turned from one another to face the minister. "I now pronounce you ... uh ...

          "Man!" Belle hissed furiously at the cleric.

          "Man and wife. What the gods have joined together let no man put asunder. You may now kiss the bride." The minister breathed a sigh of relief and beat a hasty retreat to the exit.

          Jefferson snorted. "They already did that part."

          And Rumpelstiltskin did, kissing his bride until she was breathless. It was a full two minutes before he remembered himself and released her lips to accept congratulations from his guests.

 

*.*.*

 

          The face in the mirror, the former genie of Agrabah, raced along the corridors of the Winter Palace, hopping from mirror to mirror searching for his Queen. The news he had to impart was too important to not alert her immediately. For him to have found an open link to the Dark Castle and Rumpelstiltskin, the rewards would be unimaginable. Even if he had been reduced to being merely a face in her mirror.

          She was in her war room surrounded by three of her generals, no doubt planning her next strategy against Snow White and her prince, now that open war had been declared.

          "Your Majesty! Your Majesty, you must see what I have found," he panted in his excitement.

          "Can you not see I'm in the middle of something? How dare you interrupt me?" she hissed, running a well-manicured hand over her ebony skirts.

          "Believe me, your majesty, I would not have interrupted if it were not important. You  _will_  want to see this," the mirror insisted.

          Regina pursed her ruby lips in indecision. "It's really that good?" she whined petulantly.

          "I promise."

          She turned to her generals who stood around the table awaiting her command. "Leave us." When the door closed behind them, she picked up her goblet of wine and turned to the mirror. "Alright, what is it?" she snapped testily. She was sure it was some inconsequential nonsense which had gotten him so worked up. She wasn't expecting the scene unfolding before her.

          "He's having a party and didn't invite  _me_ _?"_

          "Sorry, your majesty. Let me adjust the volume a bit for you. There are wards on the mirrors and the reception isn't quite what you're used to."

          Jefferson raised his glass of champagne and intoned, "To the bride and groom." The guests repeated the refrain as Rumpelstiltskin placed a sweet kiss to his bride's lips, love and happiness shining in his amber eyes.

          Regina felt her stomach roil painfully. "Oh. My. Gods! He married his maid!?" she screeched, dropping heavily into a throne-like chair before her mirror. "How could this have happened? Just look at him." She peered closely at the scene, her face awash with horror. "He's utterly besotted with her. Yech! Oh, I'm going to be sick." She waved her hand with a flourish and a tray appeared on the table next to her. She took the bottle of bicarbonate and tossed it back, letting the thick liquid coat her tongue. "How could anyone love  _him_  of all people?"

          "It is said everyone is entitled to a true love, your majesty," A new voice said from the shadows. "But I fear the girl is beyond hope. She is bound to him not only by the laws of our land, but also by blood and magic."

          Regina felt ice begin to form along her spine at the sound of that dreaded voice. "A blood bond, you say? That's not possible. He would never bond  _anyone_  to him and his curse."

          "He has. And now he has a powerful servant to aid him in his dark dealings. Their so-called love will only strengthen his magic, making him more powerful. It could prove disastrous for this realm. He could easily destroy us all. Is that what you want, Your Majesty?"

          Regina rose hastily to her feet, her eyes searching the deepest shadows for the voice she knew only too well, her eyes narrowing in her fury. "Of course, not!" she snapped, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "I underestimated the girl's worth. She's a much more valuable piece than I had first realized."

          A tinkling laugh trilled through the room. "You won't be able to kill her. She's bound to him now and just as immortal as he is. Blood bonds are quite powerful as you well know, this one moreso because of his curse. But I think separating them would do the trick."

          Regina flicked her fingernails together,  _clack, clack, clack,_ the only crack in her composure to betray her nervousness. If he ever found out, he wouldn't hesitate to kill her. He would take great pleasure in clawing her heart from her chest and crushing it to dust. Did the fun to be had playing with his little maid outweigh her old master's wrath if she were caught? And what of the curse he wanted her to enact? She hadn't really considered it, but the offer was still on the table as a backup plan if she failed to rid the world of Snow White.

          "The risks are great. What's in it for you?" Regina asked warily. She knew the woman had to have an ulterior motive for wanting to align herself with the Evil Queen.

          "I want to try to save the girl. She doesn't deserve to have him slowly destroy her goodness. It will also weaken the Dark One and that will be to everyone's benefit. Even yours, Your Majesty."

          Regina digested those words, a smirk curving her lip. "It will be difficult to lure the girl away from his protection. I will need time to consider your offer."

          "As you wish. Just remember she will grow more powerful the longer you wait. I will await your word." With a faint pop the woman disappeared.

          Regina moved to stand before the mirror, running her blood-red nail over the forms of Snow White and Rumpelstiltskin's new bride as they danced together to the faint strains of music. "Silly twits," Regina hissed. "Soon, I can play  _two_  pawns on the board and move things to  _my_  advantage." She may not be able to kill her old master, but she  _would_  bring him to his knees. And maybe she would also be able to rid herself of another nemesis in the process.

 

*.*.*

 

          Rumpelstiltskin caught Belle in his arms as she twirled away from Snow, giggling, her eyes alight with her happiness. He twirled her effortlessly as the instruments began playing a waltz. "It's about time you dragged yourself away from the food to dance with me, my husband," Belle purred teasingly next to his ear, smiling as she felt him shiver with pleasure.

          He shrugged. "I was hungry." He studied her as he led her about the floor, ignoring the other dancers, his attention fixed solely on her. "And was our wedding everything you'd hoped? I tried to give you what every woman desire and —"

          Belle tugged gently at his hair, effectively cutting him off. "It was perfect, my love. It was more than I'd ever dreamed it could be."

          "What was your favorite part?" he asked, dipping his head to rest his cheek against hers.

          She exhaled a deep sigh of contentment. "Your vows. They were so beautiful, Rumpel."

          "So, all the decorations and food and flowers paled in comparison, did they, dearie?" he asked with a raised brow. She nodded and pressed herself closer as they danced. "You are far too easy to please, my little wife."

          "And what was your favorite?" she asked, moaning softly as his nails dug into her hip, sending a wave of heat spiraling through her.

          His lips trailed along the whorls of her ear before he answered, his breath a warm caress against her skin. "Your dress. I was very surprised it so resembled the one you were wearing the night I brought you home. You would be shocked to know some of the fantasies I had of you wearing that lovely gold gown and the way it hugged every one of your delectable curves."

          She pulled back to capture his gaze with hers, her eyes darkening with desire. "You dreamed of me?" she asked softly, her lips scant inches from his.

          "On far too many nights to count. You are my siren and you would call to me in my dreams. It was so hard to resist you, sweetheart."

          The music changed before she could answer, and he twirled her away from him to be caught in Jefferson's arms and Snow into his with an uncomfortable smile.  _Damn partner changing tune! Uggh!_ "Don't worry, dearie, I don't bite," he told the princess, his gaze following Belle as she danced with Jefferson.

          Jefferson planted a smacking kiss against her cheek, causing her to giggle. "Are you happy, my darling girl, to finally have your prince ... er ... dark prince though he may be?"

          "Yes, very." He twirled her out to be swept up into Charming's arms. "Are you enjoying yourself, your highness?" she asked sweetly.

          He laughed nervously. "It's difficult not to when my own bride-to-be is so happy to be here to share in your joy."

          "Who knows, highness. You may become friends with my husband after all," she teased as he twirled her back into the arms of her husband, a look of horror on his handsome face.

          "Welcome back, my wife," Rumpelstiltskin said, drawing her tightly into his embrace and leading her off the dance floor. That was the last dance she would participate in unless she was dancing exclusively with him.

          "I want to hear more of these dreams you had about me."

          "Later," he promised with a waggle of his brows, causing her to blush. "I want cake."

          "You always want sweets," she chuckled as he drew her near the buffet table and the three-tiered cake sitting on the end.

          He cut a large piece and sliced it into two squares. Belle took a square and held it to his lips, which he happily accepted. He took her wrist in his hand before she could wipe the icing from her fingers with a linen napkin. Never breaking her gaze, he licked the sinful confection from her fingers, drawing an almost imperceptible whimper from her throat. "Your turn," he winked.

          Her heart stampeded through her chest as he held the cake to her mouth, leaving a bit of icing on her lower lip. She had barely swallowed when his eyes darkened, and he swooped in to suck the frosted sweetness from her lip, running his tongue along the seam and then dipping in to explore her mouth fully. She didn't know how long the kiss went on before a voice intruded.

          Red grabbed Belle's hand and dragged her away from Rumpelstiltskin. "Ahem. Well I can see this party is over. Sorry, Rump, but if you'll excuse us ladies, we'll see her to her chamber."

          Belle blushed and retained her grip on his hand as Red tried to pull her away. "I'll see you soon," she whispered before letting go, promise shining in her eyes. Red and Snow would help her out of her dress and into her night dress. There would be giggling and wine and whispers of what she should expect in her marriage bed. But Belle knew what to expect and it was with great anticipation she went along with them to prepare for her husband.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Well, was it everything you'd hoped? I really hope you enjoyed the chapter. Please let me know what you think, good or bad. Thanks so much for the reviews, favs and follows. It means so much to me.


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: A/N: I hope everyone enjoyed all the fluff. Still trying to get everything to come together to move the story forward. Believe me, you really want to enjoy the fluff now. There will be plenty of angst and soon. Good or bad, I would love to know what you think. Thank you so much for all the wonderful reviews.This chapter contains adult situations … reader discretion is advised.

          Belle exhaled loudly as her corset was finally removed. She raked her nails over the chafed skin covering her torso and smiled. She was convinced some man had invented that particular device to torture women everywhere. Red hung Belle's gown in the wardrobe and retrieved the peignoir she'd chosen for her wedding night. Snow helped her out of her remaining undergarments, leaving her naked before the mirror, her skin still shimmering with its faint dusting of gold.

          Snow shook her head with a faint smile playing on her lips. "We're never going to get this gold dust off of you."

          Belle took the negligee from Red and slipped it over her naked form, reveling in the feel of the cool silk sliding over her heated flesh. It had been a gift from her husband. Ivory silk covered in lace which fell to her feet and clung to her curves, a daring slit up the right side to the middle of her thigh. It was held up by two thin straps, leaving her arms bare. She loved every inch of it. She debated removing the gold from her skin for a moment before using her magic to vanish it.

          The women stepped back from Belle with a sharp gasp.  “I did _not_ just see that,” Snow whispered fearfully. “Another of Rumpelstiltskin’s _gifts?”_

          Belle rested her hands on Snow's shoulders and met her frightened gaze with a steady one of her own. "Think about who I just married, Snow. It would be careless of him to leave me without some form of protection, wouldn't it? He wanted me to be able to defend myself."

          "Yeah, Rump definitely falls under the category of  _overprotective_ ," Red said, sipping her wine.

          Snow forced a strained smile to her lips and hugged Belle. "You know best, I suppose." A blush stole into her face. "And can I tell you how happy I am I don't have to participate in a how-to discussion of a wife's duty to her husband on their wedding night."

          Belle chuckled. "You, my dear friend, are still a maiden. Therefore, you wouldn't have been allowed to participate."

          "Aww," Red whined miserably. "I was so looking forward to that part."

          Snow giggled, but Belle felt sad for her new friend. "How about a little advice to tide you over until it's your turn to hear the talk?"

          "I suppose," Red relented.

          "Never settle for a man you don't love. You want a man who will make you  _feel_. Your perfect mate will be one who will draw passion into every emotion you are capable of feeling. And when you touch for the first time it feels like you're caught in a summer storm and the electricity from the lightning is captured beneath your skin. At the first brush of his lips to yours, you feel as though you could fly." Belle ducked her head sheepishly, worrying she might have sounded silly.

          "It's true. That's how I feel when Charming kisses me," Snow blushed prettily.

          "You two are so lucky," Red whispered, a pout on her pretty mouth. She had so many questions for Belle and was disappointed by the knock on the door. "Come on, Snow, party's over."

          Belle began pulling the many pins from her hair and retrieved her hairbrush from the vanity as she watched her friends make their way to the door. She sat back down on the rug to brush her chestnut locks, knowing how her husband liked it down and flowing about her shoulders. She looked down at her shaking hands, wondering where her sudden case of nerves had come from. She had nothing to fear, so it must be anticipation, she deduced.

          Rumpelstiltskin raised his hand, prepared to knock once more when the door opened. He could just guess what they'd been talking about judging from the blushes the two women wore. "Good evening, ladies," he said with a bow. Of course, his act of gallantry was ruined by the wicked smirk upon his lips.

          "Good evening, Rumpelstiltskin," Snow returned, linking her arm with Red's and pulling her along down the corridor.

          Red turned at the last moment and gave him a thumbs up and a wink. "'Night, Rump," she sing-songed. He shook his head, smiling after the pair. Wolf Girl was starting to grow on him. He'd have to tell Belle she could invite Red for a visit in future if that was something she wanted to do. After all, Jefferson stayed at the Dark Castle as much as he did his own home. What would it hurt to have Belle's friends over from time to time?  _Gods, I'm getting soft!_

          While Belle's friends had been attending her, he'd sneaked away from his own to visit the bathing chamber on the first floor to have a bath and change into a loose cotton tunic and his sleeping pants. He was clean and in far less clothing he'd only have to remove later, he thought devilishly. He wiped his palms against his pants and frowned as he stepped into his bed chamber. Why the hell was he nervous? It wasn't as if they'd never done this before. A little voice niggled at his frontal lobe.  _But you weren't making love to your_ wife. And therein lay the difference. 

 _Fuck! What if I screw it up?  And I’m sure my little wife will let me know if I do._ He wasn't exactly known for his control of late, the beast making more than one appearance. Not that Belle seemed to mind. The tingle of magic was in the air as he ventured forth, his eyes searching the semi-darkness for her.

          Belle's heart quickened as he entered the room. She could  _feel_  him, a delicious side effect of the blood bond. She could feel each of his emotions roiling through him, although the tiny trace of fear she detected threw her for a moment. She remained calmly running the brush through her hair, waiting for him to come to her. Tonight, she would be making love to her  _husband_  and there was going to be no room in their bed for any insecurities or fear.

          A slow smile curved her rosebud mouth as he sat on the rug behind her. He moved forward until his legs were on either side of hers. She pulled them in to wrap around her own, to be embraced by them. He took the brush from her and picked up where she’d left off. As the brush continued its steady motion, he couldn't resist trailing his fingertips over the bumps of her spine, exposed by the backless gown. He thanked his foresight in gifting her with such a tempting scrap of material. She took the brush from his hand and rose to her feet, turning slowly so he could admire her gown.

          "You like, my husband?" she asked with a coy smile.

          His tongue snaked out to wet his lips as his eyes missed not an inch of flesh on display. She settled back onto his lap, hitching up the gown to wrap her legs about his waist. "Very much," he answered, tucking a lone lock behind her ear, his fingers trailing down her face. A frown puckered his brow and he was forced to look away.

          Belle could feel his retreat, his angst in the way he was holding himself stiffly away from her. "What is it? Tell me," she demanded, tugging his hair gently, her wrists resting lightly on his shoulders, so she could play with the soft strands.

          "I've ruined you, Belle ... well and truly ruined you. I'm very happy you have Snow and the little wolf girl and Jefferson. They won't turn from you, because they know you. But when people find out you married the monster, that you share a blood bond with me, they'll not accept you. They'll be afraid of you. This is the life to which I've condemned you."

          "And there it is," she huffed, tugging harder on his hair to get him to meet her gaze.

          "There what is?" he asked, puzzled.

          "Do I have to get the dagger and command you to listen before it finally sinks in? Yes, I am very thankful for  _our_  friends. But do you really think I give a damn what other people may think of us? Me? Will you look at me, please?" she asked, exasperated he would bring this up now, on their wedding night. His eyes met hers anxiously after a moment. "I will raise my head proudly and proclaim to the entire realm that yes, I married the Dark One ... because I love him, because I  _know_  the man behind the sorcerer everyone fears."

          "But, Belle —"

          She placed her fingertips to his lips to silence his protests. "Not finished," she replied with a soft smile. "What I think of you, what I feel for you, should be enough. I see the light which tries to shine through your darkness, my love. And I will never stop fighting until one day you can see it, too." She pressed herself more fully to him and nipped his bottom lip, reveling in the growl which rumbled deep in his chest. "Now can we please devote our evening to mutual ravishment?"

          "What happened to the sweet, shy, timid little mouse of a girl I first brought home to the Dark Castle? The little beauty who chipped my cup?" he asked, his nails skimming the bare flesh of her back above the material. She shivered in delight.

          She hummed her pleasure, trying to ignore his questions. Her lips trailed along his jaw. "She fell in love with you." Her teeth nipped at his ear. "She made you let her into your heart." She tugged the soft cotton tunic over his head and tossed it across the room. "She's fighting for you every day, so you won't forget how much she adores you." She pushed him back onto the plush hearth rug and ground herself against his arousal. "Would you like to continue this discussion, my love?"

          He flipped her over and ground himself against her, his lips claiming hers. "What discussion? Gods! Belle, you talk entirely too much," he snarked with a chuckle against her neck, biting gently and then laving the reddening flesh with his tongue.

          "Oh, indeed, my husband." She gasped as he cupped her breast through the silk of her gown and rolled the nipple between his nimble fingers. She drew his lips back to hers. "I promise I won't say another word."

          He trailed his fingers along her thigh. "You can say certain words, dear one," he murmured, leaving open-mouthed kisses along her collarbone and pulling the silk down to pool around her waist.

          She bit down on her lip as his hot mouth closed over her breast, unable to hold back the moan in the back of her throat. "What w-words?"

          "Please."

          "Please, Rumpel," she begged as his thumb swirled around that little bundle of nerves begging for his attention.

          Her back arched as he slipped his finger into her dripping folds. "I want you." He did. He'd never wanted anything more in his life than the bold little spitfire in his arms. And she was his. She belonged to him, she'd always belonged to him.

          "Oh, I want you … so very much," she breathed, her hips bucking against his hand.

          He stripped off the cotton pants he'd donned after his bath and held himself over her. "See, my Belle, you can say the right things," he teased as he thrust into her. He pulled almost all the way out before driving into her hard, her nails digging into his shoulders. He welcomed the pleasure-pain, reveling in the fact it was he who was making her lose herself. She bucked beneath him, grinding her hips into him, wanting all of him as he brought her closer to the edge.

          Their lovemaking was frenzied and wild, unable to get close enough, each wanting to convey to the other how much it meant to them, this first joining as husband and wife. It was all hands and lips and teeth and tongues as they drove each other to bliss. But it was Belle's whispered pleas and I love you’s which finally drove him over the edge as he gathered her close to his heart.

          "Belle …" he whispered against her throat, unable to put into words what this meant to him, what  _she_  meant to him.

          Her arms and legs were still wrapped tightly around him, cocooning him in her embrace, unable to bear the thought of letting go. She smoothed her hand over his hair and down the clawed expanse of his back. "Shh. I know, darling ... I know." It didn't matter how many times they made love in the future, it was this time she would never forget.

          The reality of what they had with each other was too overwhelming for words as they lay there in each other's arms, not wanting to let go. It was more than passion, more than desire, it was true love, the most powerful magic of all.

          Finally, coming down from her high, Belle opened her eyes and blinked. "Um, this is new," she said with a small smile, reaching her hand up to pluck several rose petals from her husband's hair. "Did you do this?" She raised her head, surveying their surroundings in front of the hearth. They were covered in pink and red rose petals.

          "No, sweetheart, that was all you. A side effect of your power. A product of your love," he whispered near her ear, his lips nuzzling her neck gently. He concentrated his magic until he felt the soft mattress of their bed beneath them and sighed, rolling onto his back and pulling her against his side, the day's events finally catching up with him.

          Belle rested her head over his heart, wondering when she would learn to control her magic. But she didn't mind the rose petals, they were a symbol of love, and love they had in abundance. She yawned deeply and pulled the duvet closer around them. "I love you, my Rumpel."

 

*.*.*

 

          "How did you even get him to agree to this?" Jefferson asked, looking up at Belle where she sat on the rock ledge hanging over the clear waters of the lake. Rumpelstiltskin ignored him, content to stretch out on the cool rock slab with his head resting on his wife's lap. Snow, Red and Charming had departed early that morning to return to their war against King George and the Evil Queen.

          Belle had been teary-eyed to see them go, having bonded so closely with the two women. Of course, he had felt it his duty to cheer her up by taking her swimming. He had conjured her a thick black shift which ended at her knee to swim in, although this one lacked the transparency of the other's she owned. There was no way in Hades he'd let her frolic about like a water nymph with Jefferson looking on.

          Grace chose that moment to splash her father and quickly swim away before he could retaliate. Belle laughed in delight, watching them from her perch. "I didn't have to, it was his idea," she called down to him, running her fingers through Rumpelstiltskin's hair and drawing a contented sigh from him.

          "You've been cooped up inside for too long, dearest. Besides, you need to take advantage of the lake during the summer months. Before you know it, winter will be upon us once again," he murmured, completely relaxed. His greenish gold skin sparkled in the sunlight. He and Jefferson were both bare-chested, having opted to wear only breeches to swim in and he was surprised at how much he enjoyed having the sun play across his skin.

          This was something he never would have done before he’d brought Belle to the Dark Castle. He was a creature of darkness and liked to remain in his dark lair. Belle had dragged him kicking and screaming into the bright light of day, slayed the beast and carted off her prince to go ... swimming. He laughed, drawing her attention back to him.

          "What's funny, darling?" she asked, a small smile playing on her lips.

          "Nothing, dearie. I was just thinking I used to never enjoy the sun like this," he explained, cracking one eye open to gaze up at her.

          Belle's hand stilled in his hair as she watched Jefferson swim and play with his daughter. She could see how much he loved Grace, and Belle wondered how he was able to cope with spending so much time away from the girl in his line of work. "Rumpel, have you finished your modifications to the Dark Curse yet?" she asked in a low tone, not wanting to be overheard.

          He sat up and tipped her chin up to look at him. "Why? What's going on in that lovely head of yours?"

          She hated to bring up the subject of the curse. The less she knew about the layers of that monstrosity, the better, but this had to do with her friend. "Is there any way you could put a clause in there where Jefferson can be with Grace. I don't want them to be separated, Rumpel. Gracie needs her father."

          He looked out over the water at the hatter and sighed. He owed the man a favor, a big one, for bringing Belle safely home from Avonlea. Gods! He hated owing a debt. He much preferred having someone owe him. "Belle, Regina is going to be responsible for creating our new lives."

          "Well, that just makes me feel all warm and fuzzy," she mumbled sarcastically under her breath.

          "As I was saying," he began again. "Regina will create our new lives. Hopefully, she won't be stupid enough to cross me in regards to you and me. However, I might be able to put a clause into the curse to protect our friend. Will that make you happy?"

          She smiled warmly as he pushed a lock of her wet hair behind her ear. "Yes. That will make it easier for me to sleep at night not having to worry about those two."

          His eyes darkened with dread as he thought about what was to happen to the hatter in the next month or so. Regina would need him to retrieve her father from Wonderland, leaving Jefferson stranded until the curse was cast. The hatter would be separated from Grace for many months, the least he could do was add the clause, paying his debt and making Belle happy at the same time.

          He rose to his feet and hauled Belle up beside him, looking at the cool waters below before jumping in with her still tangled in his arms. She broke the surface sputtering and laughing. He didn't want to dwell on the dark curse today. He'd much rather spend it with his wife. There really was no choice between love and darkness.


	25. Chapter 25

**Two months later …**

 

          Six days. Six long miserable days he'd been absent from the Dark Castle. Belle couldn't even remember the last time Rumpelstiltskin had taken so long on a deal. She'd had several missives from Snow and even a few from Red, keeping her updated as to how the war was progressing. But not one word from her husband. He couldn't take time out of his deal-making to jot off a note and send it to her? What could be so important to keep him from home for so long?

          They had been happy, spending nearly every moment together. Sometimes he looked at her as though she couldn't be real, almost afraid she'd disappear at any moment. She couldn't quite remember when things had changed and he'd found his confidence, when he'd finally realized she truly loved him and wasn't going to leave him. The moments of self-doubt had begun to finally leave him, and she was able to breathe a sigh of relief.

          But this had been the longest separation she'd had to suffer since returning from Avonlea and it was causing her untold distress. Yes, he was an all-powerful, immortal being, but it didn't stop her from worrying about him.

          Belle summoned the scrying bowl from the tower laboratory and it came to rest gently on the dining table. What had she to do, really? She'd had another solitary meal which tasted like ash in her mouth. All she could experience was the bitter taste of loneliness. She'd then had her tea which had grown cold waiting for her to snap out of her melancholy to drink it. A stack of books sat next to the chair she'd pulled next to the fire, unopened.

          Nothing had been able to ease her anxiety and she was not looking forward to another night alone in their cold bed. She knew she could summon him to her in an instant, but she refused to use the blood bond or the allure of the dagger. What if the deal he was working on was important? How would that look to summon him home just because she missed him?  _Pathetic, Belle. Truly pathetic._  She could teleport to him now when he summoned her to his side, but it was more difficult without the summons.

          She willed herself to calm as she moved closer to the bowl. She waved a delicate hand over it, her bracelets glowing faintly. "Show me my husband," she commanded in a firm tone. Nothing.  _God's teeth! Would nothing work properly today?_  "Show me Jefferson."

          The water shimmered and rippled before calming enough to give her a clear picture. Her friend was at the market with Grace. Peddling wild mushrooms, no doubt. With all the work Rumpelstiltskin had provided him of late, she knew he wasn't hurting for money, but he did enjoy letting his daughter make some money of her own. Good to know he wasn't spoiling the child ... for the most part.

          Belle stiffened at the sound of the Castle doors opening to admit someone.  _Please don't let it be another desperate soul in search of the Dark One's assistance._  She rubbed her hand wearily over her brow and turned to the Great Hall's double doors, plastering a smile to her lips which didn't match the irritation hiding behind her jewel-bright eyes.

          "Rumpelstiltskin …" she breathed in relief, running to him as he opened his arms to her.

          "Belle …" Her name. It was all he could manage around the lump in his throat as he crushed her to him and buried his face in her hair, holding on as if the world were ending and she was his only tether.

          Belle cupped his face in her hands and peppered his face with kisses before setting her lips to his. The stress from the past week dissolved as he deepened the kiss, showing her just how much he'd suffered by being parted from her. He was home, he was safe, and he was once again in her arms. The Dark Castle could have collapsed around them and she wouldn't have noticed or cared.

          "What took you so long?" she asked when he allowed her to come up for air. "I was so worried."

          "I know, sweetheart, I could feel your distress. You did very well in my absence." He grinned down at her, pressing his brow to hers. "You didn't call for me once."

          He grunted as she poked him in the ribs. "So help me, Rumpelstiltskin, if you tell me this was some sort of test, I will —"

          He kissed her again, diffusing her ire. "I would never, dearest. I was summoned to help a nobleman in the north who was reported to have a certain amulet I've been searching for, but he wouldn't agree to my terms. Three days bloody well wasted," he grumbled, drawing her over to the sofa and settling her down on his lap.

          He laid his head against her shoulder, breathing her in as she stroked his hair. "I'm sorry you didn't get what you wanted, Rumpel. Was it very important?" she asked, reveling in his touch. She felt the magic hum in her veins, brought on by his closeness. It was the way of them. She always felt stronger when in his presence.

          "No matter. It's not as important as the news I discovered while I was away," he paused dramatically, the imp coming to the fore. She quirked a brow to show her impatience and he giggled, the shrill sound echoing through the hall. "Alright ... King George has been defeated …"

          "And what of our lovely Regina?" she asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "I'm not too worried about King George. Regina's destruction is what we should be worried about. The curse can't be enacted without her and without the curse we won't be able to find Bae."

          He pressed a kiss to her throat and looked up at her in wonderment. "What an amazing little wife I have."

          "Why do you say that?" she asked, a small loving smile upon her lips.

          "Belle, this curse is going to tear our world to bits to bring us to this new land and you act as though we're going on a picnic. Aren't you frightened?"

          "Of course, I'm frightened. It would be unrealistic not to be with the monstrosity you've created. I know, I read it in its entirety. You really are brilliant, Rumpel. But I know as long as I am with you, everything will be fine." She pressed her lips to his brow and hugged him tightly. "The curse  _has_  to happen, my love. It's the only way for us to find Baelfire. I should know with all the research I’ve been doing."

          Would she never cease to amaze him? There was no other woman in the entire realm like his Belle and he thanked the gods for her every day. In all the deals he'd ever made over the course of centuries, she was the most valuable treasure he'd ever claimed as his price. Luck or fate or destiny, he didn't care which, he was just thankful. He wondered how he'd never seen her coming, how his gift of foresight had failed to warn him about her. Not that he would have believed it had he seen her in his future. He would have thought his gift was malfunctioning.

          "The Charmings have captured Regina. You and I will be returning to their palace to discover her fate within the hour. I want to be there to hear the news firsthand," he said wearily, closing his eyes and taking in the simple pleasure of her touch. Never again would he leave her for that long.

          "Oh, Rumpel. What do you think they'll do? We cannot let them execute her," she said anxiously.

          "I don't think it will come to that."

          She tipped his chin up to meet her gaze. "Are you really bringing me with you?"

          "Yes, dearest. I think we've endured enough separation over the past week, don't you?"

          "Indeed," she agreed softly, letting him claim her lips in another lingering kiss.

          Rumpelstiltskin set her away from him to go change and fetch her cloak, warning her to dress in dark colors in case they needed to blend with the shadows. He didn't want to worry her and explain why he was really taking her with him. The wards on the Dark Castle had been disturbed in his absence by an unknown entity and he couldn't take the chance they would be breached if he left her alone there again. She was too new to her magic to be able to repel an attack.

          He would first deal with the problems Regina had wrought in her thirst for revenge, then he would deal with finding out who was trying so diligently to breach his defenses.

 

*.*.*

 

 _How long does it take to change your clothes? It's no doubt some nonsense. 'But, Rumpel, I could find shoes to go with the black dress but not the midnight blue.' Or 'I'm sorry I took so long, but you've destroyed all my undergarments again and I had to do without.'_  A shot of pure lust flashed through him as he thought of her running about with no undergarments. He really had been away from her too long. He ran a hand through his hair and counted to ten. He'd reached the number seven when she sauntered into the Great Hall.

          "Alright, darling, I'm ready," Belle sing-songed, slipping her hand into his and linking their fingers together.

          Rumpelstiltskin's anger dissipated instantly at the sight of her bright smile. He was such a sucker. "Yes … uh … well. Belle, when we arrive, it would be a good idea to use the bond to speak, alright? We want to be able to converse without anyone hearing us."  _The gods knew she wouldn't be able to withhold her excitement or dismay for more than four seconds._

_I understand. Can we go now?_

_Now who's impatient_ , he thought with a smirk. "Only under threat of ogres are you allowed to use magic, Belle. I don't want any … mishaps should your power fail you."

 _Promise,_  she said, still using their mind link.  _It's a shame this mind link only works when we're close. It would have been lovely to use this particular power while you were away._

_I know, sweetheart. It will get stronger the more you come into your magic. Don't fret._

 

*.*.*

 

          Rumpelstiltskin felt Belle stiffen in horror as they arrived at the palace which had belonged to the former King George. The castle bailey was crowded with onlookers who had come to witness the Evil Queen's execution. He'd been gone three hours at most. These royals didn't waste any time when they wanted to off someone, apparently.

 _What the hell? You said we had plenty of time to get here to receive the news. You didn't say we were going to witness her death!_ Belle shrieked, her mental voice panicked.

_That was before you decided you just had to stop in the village for pastries before coming here, dearie._

          The heel of her boot  _accidentally_  smashed down on his big toe, causing him to grind his teeth and narrow his eyes at her. Just barely he kept himself from snarling.  _Really?_ she asked.  _You really want to start an argument now? Do we need to bring up your addiction to sweets?_

          This time he growled low in his throat, a subtle warning they would indeed have that discussion when they were alone.  _Listen, dearie. The cricket has something to say._

          Belle edged closer to her husband and once again twined her fingers with his, comforted by his protection. She was out of her element now, surrounded by people who may or may not be a threat to them. She drew the hood of her cloak closer around her face so as not to draw attention to herself. Her curious gaze fell on Charming and Snow where they sat upon a raised dais where their throne like chairs rested. Snow looked very indecisive about the proceedings.

          She chanced a glance at Rumpelstiltskin. He seemed to have already noticed her edginess himself. Next, her eyes found Red, standing next to a woman who must have been her grandmother. But that was the extent of the people she knew personally. The rest of the occupants of the bailey were a mystery to her. Rumpelstiltskin no doubt knew everyone there. She turned her attention back to the cricket hovering before Regina and she gasped when it began to speak. Bugs were not supposed to be capable of speech.

          "Regina, this is a chance to meet your end with a clear conscience. Do you have any last words?" the cricket asked in a clear voice which carried through the bailey, his tone somber and reserved. Belle noticed the Blue Fairy was hovering nearby and she had to stop herself from snorting.

_Yes, I'm certain Regina has many final words … none of them good._

_Rumpel, you can't let them kill her!_  Her panic was back, but she pushed it away to listen to Regina as she began addressing the crowd, her words carefully chosen. She seemed to be unconcerned, but Belle noticed the tight lines at her mouth which betrayed her false composure.

          "Yes. Yes, I do." The crowd waited with bated breath, not a sound from anyone could be heard in the deathly silence. "I know I am being judged for my past. A past where I have caused pain."

          Belle glanced at Snow where she sat in clear view on the dais. The young royal looked as though she'd eaten something bitter, her mouth pinched, and her expression pained. Regina droned on. "A past where I have inflicted misery. A past where I have even brought death. When I look back at everything I have done." Regina took a deep breath. "I want you all to know what I feel. And that is regret."

          Belle glanced sharply at her husband who was listening intently, that impish gleam shining in the depths of his amber eyes.  _Regret? Regina? Oh, come on._

_Hush, dearest._

          Regina's dramatic pause came to a close and the venom was back in her voice, the cold cruel sneer back on her lips. "Regret that I was not able to cause  _more_  pain." The crowd erupted in panicked whispers as she went on. "Inflict  _more_  misery and bring about  _more_  death."

          Snow closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, wounded by her step-mother's words. She was still holding out hope she would change, even after everything she'd suffered at Regina's hands. Belle felt a wave of sympathy for her friend, wishing, in that moment, she could go to Snow and comfort her.

          But Regina wasn't finished. "And above all else, with every ounce of my being, I regret I wasn't able to kill  _Snow White_." She spat the princess's name out like it burned her tongue to speak it.

          Charming had reached the end of his patience and stood to command, "Arrows!"

          Belle looked from her husband to Regina who was being blindfolded.  _Rumpelstiltskin! Do something! She cannot die today._

_Be still, sweetheart. Trust me._

          "Take your aim," Charming bellowed as silence descended over the bailey. Belle was screaming inside.

_Rumpel!_

          "Fire!"

          Belle closed her eyes, refusing to watch as the arrows were loosed into the air, a clear path straight to Regina's black heart.

          Snow jumped to her feet. "Stop!"

          The Blue Fairy was barely able to stop the arrows in time. Regina had been spared. Rumpelstiltskin smiled wickedly down at his wife.  _See? I told you to trust me._

_Don't get cocky with me, Rumpel._

          "Snow," Charming said in protest.

          The princess faced off against her fiancé. "This is not the way," she asserted in her authoritative tone, her expression brooking no objection. She stalked off toward the main hall, leaving a stunned silence in her wake and an order for Regina to be taken back to her cell.

          Rumpelstiltskin led Belle over into the shadows and grinned down at her with a satisfied smile. "See, my darling, I knew she wouldn't be executed today. Snow is all about forgiveness and second chances … and third and fourth and so on."

          "You could have warned me. I can't believe watching an execution … or an almost execution turns you on. That is so twisted, darling," she huffed in exasperation.

          "But you love me anyway."

          She childishly stuck her tongue out at him.

          He waited until the bailey had cleared before whispering conspiratorially, "Come, Belle. We're going to need that blindfold."

 

*.*.*

 

          Darkness had fallen over the bailey, an unnatural stillness in the air causing Belle to shiver from her perch on her husband's lap. He was sitting on the throne Snow had occupied earlier, content to hold his wife as she popped another grape into his mouth. He'd eaten halfway through the cluster when her innate curiosity got the better of her. "Darling, are you ever going to get around to telling me why we're sitting out here? What are we waiting for? And why did you need Regina's blindfold?"

          He shrugged. "Maybe I just want to sit out here with my wife?"

          "Nuh-uh. Try again. You don't do  _anything_  without a clear purpose in mind."

          His ears perked up at the sound of soft footsteps on the cobblestones. He lowered his voice to whisper in Belle's ear. "All is about to become clear. Patience."

          Snow was rather deep in thought, her mind a quandary as to what she was supposed to do about the queen. She was taken aback when Rumpelstiltskin's voice intruded upon her solitude.

          "My, my, aren't we troubled, dearie," he trilled, the imp taking over his persona.

          Snow turned to find her friend and the imp sitting on the throne, surprise lighting her features. "Belle, Rumpelstiltskin, what brings you here?"

          Belle nodded to Snow as she rose to her feet and moved to the side so Rumpelstiltskin could also rise and face the princess. She knew how excited he was about this particular deal and wasn't about to intrude. She could always talk to her confidante later. She was almost afraid to intrude on him at the moment. When the Dark One dealt, it was best to give him plenty of room and stay out of his way.

          "You have to ask? I came to witness the queen's execution. Even had my heart set on a wee souvenir," he twittered, twirling the blindfold in his long fingers. "It's all very  _disappointing."_

          It was becoming increasingly difficult for Belle to keep a straight face as she watched his posturing and dancing steps around Snow. "I won't apologize for sparing her life. Not when there's a chance she might change." Snow said, raising her chin defiantly as she explained herself to the imp.

          Belle snorted. Rumpelstiltskin cut his eyes over to her in warning. Turning back to Snow, he giggled. "Regina redeemed. What a novel thought. And how do you plan to accomplish such an impressive feat?"

          Snow sighed despondently. "I don't even know if it's possible. I'm probably just fooling myself."

          His excitement was infectious, and Belle found herself smiling as she watched him. "Maybe you need someone to show you if it  _is_ possible."

          "What do you mean?" Snow asked, her expression becoming guarded.

          "Simple," he baited the hook, his voice rising. "I provide you with a test to help determine whether the queen can truly change."

          "Rumpelstiltskin, I know you're trying to be a better man for Belle, and I can’t even begin to thank you for your friendship, but why should I trust you when I know you want the queen dead? You never make a deal without a price," she told him, casting Belle an apologetic look over his shoulder. She'd spent enough time around the sorcerer of late to know she wasn't dealing with the man who'd fallen in love with her friend, but with the Dark One himself.

          "Maybe I just want her alive," he teased. It was the truth, but he didn't want her to know that.

          "That I doubt," she said dubiously.

          He laughed again, the shrill twitter trilling through the bailey. "Question my motives all you like, dearie, but they shall remain mine. What is yours now is opportunity. I can help you. Do we have a deal?"

 

*.*.*

 

          It was much later, alone in their bedroom when Rumpelstiltskin finally answered his wife's questions as she lay in his arms. "So, do you think Regina will pass the test you set for her?" Belle asked, yawning and snuggling deeper into his side.

          "Of course, not. We don't want her to pass, remember? I charmed the blade I gave Snow, with which Regina will surely try to kill the princess. If she does, she won't be able to harm either Snow or Charming ever again … in this land."

          Belle hummed her approval, her eyes closing in exhaustion. "So, this will give Regina even further incentive to take us to the land without magic?"

          "Indeed, sweetheart," he murmured softly against her hair. "Everything is falling into place."

          She didn't hear him, already asleep, a slight smile curving her rosebud mouth, content her husband was home with her and soon they would be able to find his son. In the morning, they would find a missive from Snow relating the events of the previous evening and assuring them Regina had been banished for good.


	26. Chapter 26

          It was unbearably cold in the Winter Palace even in the middle of summer. Why was it always so cold? No doubt, due to the queen's evil, the woman thought as she made her way stealthily down the corridor, keeping to the shadows. Cloaking herself from prying eyes wasn't usually such a task for one such as her, but it was as if the very air inside the citadel were draining her of power.

          She found Regina in the main hall of the castle, slumped over in her chair, her chin resting in her hand. Recent developments were surely going to make the queen more susceptible to her plans for the Dark One and his lady wife. She hadn't been stripped of her powers, but any attack to Snow White would prove fruitless. Perhaps she was ready to turn her evil machinations elsewhere. And if it happened to bring the Dark One to his knees, so much the better.

          "I really hate to see you looking so melancholy, your majesty," she said from the shadows. "Having your heart's desire plucked away so cruelly must be devastating for you, my dear."

          "You! What do you want?" Regina sneered, rising from her chair and searching the deep shadows for the voice she knew only too well. The entire realm saw her as the Evil Queen. Regina snorted. She was a saint compared to this one.

          A soft trilling laugh echoed through the hall, taunting her with its sweetness. There was nothing sweet about her. "I just thought I would come by to have that little chat you promised me. About our plans?"

          Regina's hand paused halfway to her lips, her wine glass tilted precariously. Her palms began to sweat as she smoothed one down the sleek contours of her ebony gown. "You really mean to go up against  _him_? If he were ever to discover what you have planned for his precious little maid, there would be nowhere in the seven realms for you to hide. I don't know if I'm prepared to die just now. Standing before a firing squad tends to give one a new perspective. And believe me, that would be a quick and painless death compared to the torture and pain he would bring down upon us. Only after we were begging and broken would he then end it."

          The woman dropped all pretense at those words. Yes, it would be a risk. But if she was somehow able to save the young princess and bring the Dark One down in the process, the risks would well be worth it. "If you were serious in your refusal, why have you prepared a chamber at Maleficent's fortress to hide her?"

          Regina's brow arched questioningly, her ruby lips curling into a smirk. "Well … I guess I was a tad bored last week when I was banished and sent back here with nothing to do. I admit your plan does have merit. Rumpel could stand to lose some of his power, and if he's brought down through the girl … all the better. She's just a tad bit too sure of herself."

          "His loss will make him even more dangerous and unpredictable," the woman mused. "There is a great chance we will see him go mad in his grief. The stronger their bond through magic and blood, the worse it will be ... for the both of them, I'm saddened to say."

          Regina's eyes flashed with hidden malice. If she could no longer have her revenge against Snow White, the little wife of Rumpelstiltskin would make a lovely substitute. And then she, Regina, the Evil Queen, would hold all the power. She wouldn't kill her, of course. There were entirely too many possibilities to hurt him if she were kept alive. Her own little chess piece she could play at the last moment to bring his entire world crumbling down. And when she had him on his knees, she would  _crush_  him.

          Finally, she turned to the woman, revealing a sickly-sweet smile. "I may have thought about your proposal once or twice."

          "And is the mirror complete? Has it been enchanted to my specifications?" the woman asked, her eyes narrowed with distrust.

          "Yes, yes, it's already been moved to the cell. But I wouldn't worry about that. The tricky part is going to be capturing the girl. She's hardly out of his sight … ever. And now she has her own magic, unreliable, but there regardless." Regina tapped a blood-red nail to her chin, contemplating how much could go wrong with this plan.

          "I wouldn't worry about  _how_  we get her away from the Dark One. Leave that to me. In two days’ time, she will be attending Snow White and Prince James’ wedding. It won't be hard at all to abduct her from the festivities … right from under his nose," the woman sing-songed with a laugh. "Perhaps once she's recovered from his  _influence_ , she might be willing to help us find a way to destroy his evil once and for all."

          Regina moved to stand before the full-length mirror in the corner of her hall and inspected her pearly teeth. "You're out to end him," she stated. Her hands twitched at her side as she thought of the ramifications of their plan. "She's immortal as long as she's bound to him, don't you know? It's going to take both of our magicks to bind her to the cell. We can't let him find her."

          "Which is why you decided not to use your own castle as her prison, your majesty. This is the first place he'll look. And we can't have that," she said with a tinkling laugh. "We won't be able to cast the spell until we have the girl, so be ready. I will contact you when I have her." She turned to leave, slinking off deeper into the shadows. "Cheer up, Regina. After all, this is for the greater good."

          The queen shuddered as she continued to primp in her mirror. She couldn't help but think about how many things could go wrong. Being on the bad side of Rumpelstiltskin was just suicide.

 

*.*.*

 

          "Tell me again why we're traveling by carriage. We never take the carriage," Jefferson complained. "We could already be there if we'd teleported, enjoying the food, the wine, the … ladies." A wide smile tipped his lips at the thought. He'd sent Grace off to spend the week with her aunt and he was looking forward to the wedding … or more apt, the ball following. He was entitled to have some fun. If the Dark One could find love, why couldn't he?

          Rumpelstiltskin arched a brow at his friend and rolled his eyes. "I've told you, hatter. As I am powerful enough to transport three at a time, it is an unnecessary drain on my power," he said irritably. He didn't want to go to the wedding. He had  _other_ things to do today. Looking down at his wife snuggled into his side and snoring softly, his arm protectively wrapped about her waist, his features softened. She'd been quite insistent about attending the wedding, and he hadn't been able to come up with a good excuse to deny her.

          "Why couldn't Belle have teleported under her own power? I know she can do it; I've seen her," Jefferson huffed, shifting in his seat for a more comfortable position. The bouncing and jarring of the carriage were wearing away at his good mood.

          "I don't trust her to arrive safely, hatter. She's just getting used to short distances. I don't want her to  _miss_  her target." Belle would, of course, be easy enough to locate through the bond, but he didn't want to think about her scared and alone until he could find her.

          Jefferson laid his head back against the cushioned seat and sighed. It was still a novel concept that his little friend had married the sorcerer. He'd been certain they were perfect for one another, and just as equally certain Rumpelstiltskin would never admit to  _feelings_  of any kind.

          Happiness is what they had now. The same kind of happiness he wanted for himself. Not just because Grace really needed a mother-figure in her life, but because … damnit, he was lonely. Perhaps tonight he would meet someone interesting. She'd have to be half mad, however, to feel comfortable with his eccentricities.

          "Belle will be your responsibility until I return from my little errand, Jefferson," Rumpelstiltskin said softly, breaking the silence which had settled between them. "You do realize how displeased I'll be if something were to happen to her." Magic crackled along his fingertips at the thought of harm coming to the bundle curled up next to him, using him as a pillow.

          Jefferson gulped audibly, his eyes widening. "Wouldn't dream of letting any harm come to the darling girl."

          "See that you don't."

 

*.*.*

 

          Belle took Rumpelstiltskin's hand as she stepped out of the carriage, her sapphire gown shimmering in the late afternoon sun. It had been a gift from her husband. The silk gown draped elegantly on her petite frame, the bodice hugging her waist to fall into a full skirt, the long-fitted sleeves of sheer sapphire lace leaving her shoulders bare.

          He was dressed just as handsomely as he'd dressed for their own wedding, his dragon-hide coat nowhere to be seen. Jefferson, however, was determined to draw attention to himself in a bright purple jacket and glaring orange waistcoat. The lime green cravat was a bit much, though. She shook her head and smiled at him. He needed a haircut.

          The Great Hall was milling with people as they made their entrance. Even though they were early - just a bit so she could see Snow before the ceremony commenced - there were servants passing through the throng with trays laden with drinks. Jefferson didn't hesitate to accept a goblet of wine, his eyes scanning the crowd. Pink and white streamers, flowers of every variety and gaily dressed ladies were ever present as they made their way to the ballroom.

          Belle pressed closer to Rumpelstiltskin's side and held her head high as the stares and whispers began. After all, the entire kingdom had been invited and there was no reason they should be made to feel unwelcome. Fear rippled through the room and she had to remind herself of the small-mindedness of people who had no understanding of other's feelings. Before she'd come to the Dark Castle, she'd been regarded as odd, so the feelings she was experiencing were nothing new to her.

          "Don't fret, dearest. You know who your true friends are," he whispered reassuringly next to her ear. She flashed him a brave smile, but didn't let go of his arm. "I have to run that little errand we discussed earlier. Are you going to be alright with Jefferson while I'm away?"

          "I'll be fine, my love. Just hurry back before the ceremony, please," she murmured as she pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. "I don't like it when you have to see  _her_ , no matter the necessity."

          He gave Jefferson a warning look, promising dire consequences if he left her side for a second and then he was gone, leaving his tell-tale smoke trail lingering in the air.

 

*.*.*

 

          Regina was sulking … again, her thoughts turning over upon one another about the wasted years she'd spent pursuing Snow White across the realm in her thirst for revenge. Wasted years were a hard thing for her to stomach. Her father approached her warily, his eyes fearful as he tried to judge her mood.

          "You have a visitor," he said cautiously in a quiet tone.

          "Who?" she snapped, continuing to glare at the mirror.

          "You need to ask?" Rumpelstiltskin asked a high-pitched tone from where he sat upon her settee. "What other friends do you have, dearie?"

          Regina rounded on him, snarling through clenched teeth, "You're no friend. Have you come to relish my suffering?" Her eyes narrowed.  _Soon it will be you who is suffering_ , she thought viciously.

          He rose from the settee to prowl around her. He was thinking her gowns were getting tighter and tighter as he took in the royal blue sheath she wore. "I thought you'd want someone to raise your spirits. Especially on a day like today," he grinned with his elaborate hand gestures, continuously moving around her, a coiled snake preparing to strike. And he knew all of Regina's most vulnerable spots.

          She remained still, watching him from the corner of her eye. "What's so special about today?" she asked, opting for an innocent tone. She knew only too well what today was, but she refused to give him the satisfaction of letting him know she'd been sulking about it.

          He twittered his maniacal giggle just to annoy her. "Snow White and Prince Charming's wedding, of course. Didn't you get an invitation?" He smirked when she didn't answer. "Ah. Me neither, so I'm going as Belle's plus one. Still," he continued, "nice to be able to see them declare their twoo wuv in front of the entire kingdom. Happy ending after all," he said, knowing full well every word was a spiked barb at Regina's pride.

          She whirled on him angrily. "And because of you, there's nothing I can do to stop it. No way to harm them in this land ever again," she sneered, her voice cold and sarcastic.

          He lowered his voice, his accent becoming thicker. "Yes. Yes, I suppose that's true," he agreed sympathetically, pausing for effect. "In _this_ land.

A puzzled frown knit her brow. "What?"

          He smiled at her, realizing she was finally catching on.  _About bloody time, dearie!_  "The deal I made was explicit. You can never harm them in  _this_  land. Now, were you to bring them to another land, well." He shrugged and smiled wickedly. "Told you I was your friend." His impish giggle reverberated through the room as he vanished from her presence.

          Excitement coursed through her as she settled on her new plan of action. The Dark Curse. Maybe she could have her revenge after all. It would take time to plan and perfect it, but she could cast the curse and have everything she wanted. "Father, bring my carriage. I have a wedding to get to."

 

*.*.*

 

          "Darling, do you see that man over there in the silver turban? That's Lord Ethos and he approached me earlier to ask me if you'd be willing to deal with him. And over there," Belle said, pointing to a group of laughing noblewomen. "The frumpy girl in that horrid red dress. What  _was_  her mother thinking? She wishes to deal with you also. And …"

          Rumpelstiltskin continued twirling her about the dance floor, listening to her with only half an ear, more content to hold her in his arms and watch the delight flitting across her features. Her eyes were alight with her excitement and he admitted ruefully he was glad he'd brought her.

          Thinking back to the ceremony, he thought Regina had been in fine form with her tantrum, promising to bring about a halt to every happy ending in the realm. Belle had been equally delighted Rumpelstiltskin's plans were coming to fruition. One step closer to Bae. But he could see how the stress of the day was wearing on her.

          "Tired, dear one?" he asked, bringing their conjoined hands to his lips and pressing a kiss to her knuckles, his other hand possessively at her waist as he guided her in the dance.

          She hummed her agreement and let him pull her closer. "A bit, I suppose. Snow had me and Jefferson shown to our respective rooms earlier, so I might retire in awhile. You on the other hand will be quite busy with several lucrative deals this evening."

          His eyes were burnished amber, softly glowing as he watched her. "I'm not dealing today, dearest," he told her, for once his ever-present avarice quite absent. "I'd much rather spend the evening with you." His lips brushed against her ear, causing her to tremble in his arms.

          "It’s not like you to avoid making a deal, Rumpel."

          "There will be other deals," he insisted.

          "But what if they are able to offer you something you might need for our future in the new land? And you passed it up because you can't keep your hands to yourself? Hmm?" she asked teasingly. She watched briefly over his shoulder as Jefferson stepped out onto the dance floor with the lady he'd been flirting with at the long buffet table.

          He glanced over at the nobleman with a renewed sense of awareness, and then cast her a pained expression. "But, Belle …"

          "It's fine, love. Walk me to our room so you can find your way later and then you can make deals until the wee hours of the morning."

          He led her off the dance floor with a hungry gleam in his eyes, and it had nothing to do with making a deal, unless that deal was with his lovely wife. "Lead the way, dearest."

 

*.*.*

 

          Belle groaned and rolled over, her eyes heavy with sleep. What had woken her? After spending an enjoyable hour in bed with Rumpelstiltskin, she'd fallen asleep sated and spent and wanting to rest her weary body. She'd just been dozing off when he'd pressed his lips to her brow, and wished her sweet dreams and the promise of his love. Hopefully, he would be back before the dawn. She really hated sleeping alone.

          She flipped back over onto her back and burrowed down into the bedcovers, striving to get comfortable. But something was niggling at her subconscious. Something wasn't quite right. Maybe Rumpelstiltskin had returned and was making that noise preparing for bed, she thought groggily.

          "Rumpel, love, just come back to bed," she murmured, her voice a soft echo through the borrowed bedchamber. Sleep fled her as the magic enveloped her, covering her head to toe. Even the ability of speech failed her. What was happening?

          The woman leaned over her to inspect her handiwork, a feral snarl on her pink lips. Belle's eyes lit with recognition and she spread out her thoughts with the blood bond, searching for her husband's mind among the sea of guests several floors below her. Why would she do such a thing to her? What did she have to gain by trapping her?

          "Sorry, princess, but he can't hear you. Right now, he's below spreading his evil and thinking you are up here safe and secure, wrapped in your dreams. He won't be any the wiser until it's much too late," she said softly, her voice tinkling through the shadows.

          Belle had so many questions as panic overwhelmed her, her mind and body trapped by magic. Surely, he could sense her distress, she thought frantically. But she knew the woman was right, her magic was as frozen as her body and there was nothing she could do about it.

 

*.*.*

 

          Jefferson caught him as he fell. In the years he'd known him, he'd never seen the great Dark One show any sign of weakness aside from the day he'd returned Belle to Avonlea. They were out on the terrace with Lady Winstead - the frumpy little lass who had begged for a deal to make her beautiful - when the imp had collapsed, that same look of loss and anguish clouding his features and draining his face of color. The hatter bade the girl to return to the ballroom and forget what she'd seen, threatening dire consequences if she disobeyed.

          Rumpelstiltskin was on his knees, pain ripping through him with the force of a thousand daggers. He couldn't feel her. Why couldn't he feel her? The thrall of the dagger … gone. The blood bond … gone. It was just as if she had ceased to exist. Even if she'd been taken to another realm, the bonds he shared with her would still be felt. Jefferson was yelling at him, trying to get him to explain what had happened. He opened his mouth to speak and found he couldn't form the words which would haunt him for the rest of his life. He couldn't fight his way through the pain.

          "Rumpel, what is wrong with you? How can I help you if you don't tell me what's happening?" Jefferson asked, frantic to come to the imp's aid.

          "Belle …"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Well, well, well, dearies! Have you figured out who our mystery kidnapper with a death wish is yet (spoilery reviews aside)? Please let me know who YOU think it is and if you liked the chapter. Thank you all for leaving reviews, for following and favoriting. You guys are awesome!


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Sorry I left y'all hanging with the last chapter. Poor Rumpel. Yes, here comes the angst. No, they will not be reunited before Storybrooke, but the wait will so be worth it. Really, stick around. You've come this far. You're not going to want to miss it. Thanks so much for reading. I suppose since I had to throw in the angst, I might as well reveal who our mystery woman is. Huh?

          The beast was loosed. The anger, the rage, the unmitigated fury which blackened his soul had been freed, his heart unable to cope with the pain. The Dark One, the monster he was, his curse was free to wreak havoc on all those stupid enough to come near him. Rumpelstiltskin paced before the circular table dominating the Charming's council room, but he saw nothing of his surroundings, only the need which raged within him. The need to rip, to tear, to destroy until he could breathe again.

          The rage vied with the pain in his chest, choking his heart and squeezing his lungs until he wanted to die. She was supposed to be immortal. He had performed every spell, every incantation down to the last detail. The blood bond, and giving her possession of the dagger tied her to him. She could  _not_  die before he ceased to walk the earth. Then where the hell was she? How could he not feel her?

          His head rang with dizziness from trying to summon her to his side. It ached with searching through their mind link. He'd tried to pinpoint her location, searching through the void to rush to her side. Nothing. She couldn't be dead, he refused to let himself dwell on it. The pain was too much for him to bear. With his senses dulled, the beast had seen the opening and crept out of its cage to snap and snarl at any who dared intrude on his morbid thoughts.

          Jefferson had been the first, trying to comfort him. Apparently, the hatter knew when to back off and retreat, leaving him alone, but staying near in a watchful stance. Jefferson considered him a friend and wouldn't scurry off into the shadows at the first sign of his formidable rage, mores the pity.

          He watched through hooded eyes, black as pitch, as the Charmings, the wolf girl and a contingent of soldiers filed into the room, their faces somber for having just been at such a festive event. At least they had sense enough to keep the Blue Fairy from making an appearance. Things would have turned violent.

          He cared for none of that now, his mind screaming recriminations at him like flaming swords. One word repeating itself in the void … Belle. Charming seated Snow next to him at the immense table and turned his worried gaze on the imp.

          "Why have you called us here, Rumpelstiltskin?" Charming asked, his voice firm. This was his wedding day, after all, and he wanted to get to the point and rather quickly.

          Jefferson spoke first, leaning his elbows on the table and facing the prince. "That would be me. You won't be able to get through to him just yet."

          Snow's brow puckered with concern. "Where's Belle? She's never far from his side. I …"

          A low growl rumbled in the imp's chest, his voice filled with bitterness when he spoke. "Where is she, you ask?" He leaned forward, planting his palms on the table and leaning forward. "My darling wife has been stolen from me. I granted her permission to reside for the evening in YOUR PALACE, PRINCESS! AND SOMEONE HAD THE UNMITIGATED GALL TO STEAL HER FROM ME WHILE SHE WAS SUPPOSED TO BE UNDER YOUR PROTECTION!"

          Charming rose so swiftly from his chair, the force of it made it tumble to the marble floor, his hand on the hilt of his sword. "Now see here. You will …"

          Rumpelstiltskin raised his hand to silence the prince. The unpredictability of his magic, in his upset, pinning Charming to the marble pillar behind him. "No, you see, shepherd. You people have grown lax of late. You don't fear me as you should. You think I have grown weak because of my great love for my wife. Let me assure you, dearie … I'm here to play. And because she went missing while a guest in your home, I expect you to help with the search."

          Jefferson groaned inwardly, helpless in the face of the imp's anger. "Charming, you need to know that wasn't a request. More like a command," he warned, knowing the Dark One's thirst for blood. He was feeling it himself in his worry for the sweet girl he'd befriended.

          "When I went to her room, it was awash in magic," Rumpelstiltskin hissed through clenched teeth, his hands at his sides fisting and unfisting as he fought to control the rage. Dark magic crackled at his fingertips like tiny bolts of lightning as he stared down the royals.

          "You don't think Regina is responsible, do you? Since she couldn't have her revenge on me, do you think she might have turned her wrath on Belle instead?" Snow asked, not wanting him to turn on her, to blame her for what the queen might do.

          No, he would deal with Regina shortly, but he had to have control over himself before he confronted her. He couldn't let himself lose the thin thread of control and kill her. He was still counting on the witch to cast the curse for him. She had to be kept alive. "The magic in our room was ancient, a very old magic, but it wasn't dark magic. It was also too powerful for Belle to have cast herself. She's too new to the craft. Because it wasn't dark magic, that rules the queen out, although I still plan to have words with her about her possible involvement."

          Red spoke for the first time. "But who would want to hurt Belle? She's no threat to anyone, why would someone have done this?" she asked, still trying to wrap her mind around this strange course of events.

          "It has to be someone you've crossed in one of your deals, an enemy," Charming piped in. "They know if they take what you hold most dear they will be able to use her against you. We all know how you're the only one who benefits from them."

          Another growl sounded low in his chest. "But that doesn't seem to stop you from showing up on my doorstep, does it, dearie?"

          Snow stood abruptly, her voice full of authority as she faced her husband and the Dark One. "Enough, you two. This is getting us nowhere. Charming, have a garrison search the palace top to bottom, including the dungeons. Have another spread into the surrounding area. Comb the forest, the docks, the mill. Red, have the dwarves check the mines in case they used them as an escape route out of the palace. I want the entire area searched; any and every road leading out of Longborne, then have them go door to door if necessary. Have our people question those guests from that wing of the castle to see if they heard or saw anything." She strode to Rumpelstiltskin and put a reassuring hand on his arm. He looked down at her, his eyes wary. "I promise we will do everything in our power to help you find her. Remember, Rumpelstiltskin ... she's my friend, too."

          The beast withdrew slightly, allowing her to comfort him for a moment. "Thank you, princess." And then he was gone, leaving Jefferson to coordinate with the royals and keep him apprised of the situation. He couldn't stay there. His mind was whirling. Why hadn't he put wards on the room to protect her? Why had he listened to her when she had told him to go back down to the ball and make his deals? Why hadn't he stayed there and protected her? Where was she and how was he ever going to find her?

          She could be anywhere and without the bond it was going to be like finding a needle in a haystack. How much time had he wasted with the royal couple when he could have been out searching for her? This is what occupied his mind as he appeared suddenly outside the gates of the Winter Palace.

          He strode through the gates, his steps purposeful, his eyes fixed straight ahead, the Dark One's magic so concentrated, he didn't have to lift a hand to the guards who were instantly pinned to the wall with his passage, their weapons clattering uselessly to the stone floor. It didn't take him long to find Regina in her bedchamber with her lover. Poor bastard, he thought with little sympathy for the huntsman whose heart rested in a chest in the queen's vault. He had sympathy for nothing and no one. His magic gripped Regina and flung her from the bed to rest in a heap upon the rug in front of the massive stone hearth.

          "Where. Is. She?" he snarled at her, walking slowly to stand over her, his stance predatory. "Tell me where she is, Regina," he hissed, his magic holding her firm to the floor.

          "It would help if you told me who you were looking for," she said coyly, her tone riling the beast even further. It had taken little time to get the lady of the Dark Castle safely tucked away behind a wall of magic Belle would never be able to break through. Her magic combined with her ally's was so strong, the Dark One would never be able to sense the little maid’s presence behind it.

          "Belle!" he barked viciously, his hand itching to squeeze the life from her. "My  _wife,_  where is she? Do I need to tear this castle down brick by brick to find her?"

          "Gods! Rumpel, you  _married_ your  _maid_?"

          "Regina!"

          "And here I'd always thought you had standards." A cold laugh passed her blood-red lips, provoking the beast. "Well … I assure you, Rumpel, I've been here all evening with my huntsman. He can vouch for my whereabouts."

          "Oh, so you no longer control him? You've given his heart back to him, have you? His word is about as good as yours, dearie." He could see he would be getting nowhere with her tonight.

          Regina ran her tongue over the plane of her pearly teeth and sneered at him. "Maybe she ran away. Maybe she saw her chance to escape the beast and took it," she said, her voice shards of ice to his damaged soul.

          He pushed the doubts - doubts he'd just recently overcome under Belle's care and reassurance - away and narrowed his gaze on her, searching for any hidden clues she might be lying to him. Without another word, he turned on his heel and left the way he’d come to resume his search. He didn't care what deal he had to make, he didn't care what nefarious acts he had to perform or who he had to kill, but he  _would_  find her.

 

*.*.*

 

          She was lying on her stomach when she finally woke from the magic induced haze which had long ago worn off, every nerve ending screaming in agony. Belle remained completely motionless, cracking open her eyes slowly to take in her surroundings. Her hair had fallen over her brow, partially obscuring her view, yet she dared not reach a hand up to brush it away. It felt as though someone had removed all her organs, scrambled them together and shoved them back in, out of order. What had they done to her? Had they tortured her while she'd been unconscious? It felt as though her blood was boiling in her veins.

          She stretched out through her bond and hit a brick wall. She couldn't feel her husband. Panic began to rise in her chest, choking her. She couldn't seem to pull enough air into her lungs. Where was Rumpelstiltskin? Pushing the pain aside, she forced herself to sit up on the cot, the blanket falling to her waist. She looked down to find herself dressed in the dark blue shift she'd worn to bed, but she could find no reason why her skin burned. Absently, she rubbed her wrists above her bracelets to find the flesh there raw and abraded. Someone had tried to remove the cuffs where most of her magic dwelled.

          The room was dimly lit; only one torch flared near the door. Not really a door, she realized, but more of an archway. She could feel the magic pulsing around it even from where she sat. It shimmered, alternating between blue and purple. Two kinds of magic, one light, one dark. The cold stone floor beneath her bare feet was icy, warning her to remain where she was. There were no other doors and nary a window to let in the sunlight. There was a chamber pot in the corner for personal needs she would rather not get too close to. But what drew her attention was the mirror. It was the size of three full length standing mirrors if you set them side by side and the edges glowed faintly, beckoning her forward, playing on her inquisitive nature. It took a great effort for her not to investigate further, her mind set on trying to summon her husband.

          "Rumpelstiltskin!" Nothing. "Rumpelstiltskin!" She cried for him until she was hoarse, her throat raw and parched, until she realized he couldn't hear her. The magic binding her to the room blocking off her voice as well as her power. She tried teleporting to his side to no avail. She tried summoning her magic to her fingertips to use against the barrier to have it remain dormant. She next tried summoning him through the power of the dagger, reciting the ancient words which would bring him to her, his mistress. Again, it was a useless effort. She was well and truly trapped, and royally pissed!

          How dare she!? All this time Rumpelstiltskin had been protecting them from the wrong person. It was still debatable as to whether Regina was involved in this debacle, but she was certain if she was, she would reveal herself eventually. But now, she had bigger problems. No magic, no bond and no Dark One. He had to be an emotional wreck and she wasn't there to help calm him. Who would keep the beast in check? Things were going to get really bad for the realm, of that she had no doubt. In her first months at the Dark Castle, she had witnessed the beast in all his evil glory. She shuddered at the memories. She couldn't let him fall back into his old ways, it would surely destroy him this time.

          So lost in thoughts of escape, Belle didn't hear the woman's soft approach, her steps bringing her to the other side of the barrier. "I'm so sorry it had to come to this, princess," she said in her soft tinkling voice. "but this is the only way we can save you."

          Belle's lip curled up into a sneer, the expression reminiscent of her husband's. "Why? Do you really hate him so much it had to come to this?" she asked, itching to do harm to the woman, feeling the darkness in her blood for the first time.

          The woman leisurely inspected her fingernails as if she were already bored with the conversation. Belle knew better, but bit her tongue, waiting for the woman to speak. "Your loss will weaken him. He will become consumed with searching for you, my dear, until it drives him mad."

          Belle had never wished to harm another living creature as much as she wanted to rip and tear into the woman standing so smugly before her. "Oh, so you wish to make him even more dangerous. You cannot contain the beast, you foolish woman. For once in his long life, he had hope, he had love and he was healing. Now you've ripped every bit of good from him. How can you think it's the right thing to do when it will destroy him?" she asked, her voice an icy hiss.

          She laughed, the sound sending a wayward chill skittering down Belle's spine. "I won't be able to kill him, no matter how much I wish it. The curse prevents it. But once his mind is gone, it will be much easier to contain him, shutting him away from the world where his evil can no longer destroy lives."

          Belle ground her teeth together in her anger, quelling the rage roiling through her. "What do you plan to do with me, then?" she asked, not really wanting to know the answer. It was enough that she was separated from her love.

          "It is my hope I will be able to … rehabilitate you, so to speak."

          "Rehabilitate me? And how are you planning to accomplish that?" Belle asked dubiously.

          "The cuffs you wear. They are the source of your magic? How do you remove them? I'd like to send him a souvenir," she said, her lip curling into a cruel smirk.

          Belle laughed, the sound hollow against the stone walls of her new prison. "They can't be removed. Even Rumpel can't remove them. They are a part of me now, as sure as his blood runs in my veins. I don't know how you managed to block the bond, but you can't destroy it without destroying me and I am now just as immortal as the Dark One."

          The woman hummed her displeasure and Belle could practically see the wheels turning in her head. "Well then, I'll have to resort to something a bit less drastic than your death." The mirror came to life behind Belle, causing her to turn toward it and stare in disbelief. Scenes, past and present flashed across the shimmering silver surface before settling into the clear image of Rumpelstiltskin.

          "What is this?" Belle asked in a horrified whisper as she watched the scene of her husband, wracked with grief as he confronted the Charmings about her disappearance.

          "This mirror will show you every vile deed he has ever committed. It will show you the lengths he will go to, in order to achieve his ends. Maybe when you can see for yourself what he is capable of, you will be more willing to cooperate."

          Belle touched the mirror, her fingertips ghosting reverently over the image of her husband. She could feel the tears welling in her eyes, her need to touch him so great she could feel her heart pound with it. She wondered who would give into the madness of grief first, she or Rumpelstiltskin. "You wish for me to forsake him, don't you?" she asked, her voice just above a whisper.

          "It is the only way to save you from his darkness, princess."

          "And what consequences do you face for attempting to destroy true love? What will your council have to say about your actions when they find out?"

          The woman laughed. "If you are rehabilitated and free of his thrall, you won't bring charges against me to the council. You will be thanking me."

          Hatred welled up in Belle's throat to leave a bitter taste in her mouth. If she could have summoned her magic, she would have turned the woman to ash. It was only her faith in Rumpelstiltskin which kept her voice even. "He will find me. And when he does, you sanctimonious, self-righteous harpy, I hope he rips your wings off and eats them for breakfast," she hissed furiously. "There won't be a single place for you to hide from his wrath. He will end you and do the entire realm a favor. You make everyone see you as goodness and light and you are more evil than a thousand dark curses."

          Rheul Ghorm simply smirked and turned on her heel, leaving Belle alone with her rage and the deepest despair she'd ever experienced. She fell upon the small rough cot and cried, her eyes leveled on the mirror and the image of her husband. "Find me, Rumpel. I need you so much, but you need me more. We have to save each other, my love. Find me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: dun dun dun! Are you surprised? Had you figured it out? I hope everyone was completely shocked. I look forward to your thoughts on this chapter good or bad. I so hate the blue fairy and just had to turn her into a villain. I can't wait till our beloved Rumpel finds out who's ultimately behind Belle's disappearance.


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So, was the reveal worth it? I just wanted to do something no one had, y'know. When I’d first written this, I’d never read Blue as the villain, so I took a chance. I'm so glad so many of you liked it. Thank you so much for all the reviews :D We're almost to Storybrooke. I'm ready for more angst, but I'm also ready for some Rumbelle fluff.
> 
> OMG! The last section of this chapter made me go through half a box of Kleenex. Tissue alert! Hope you guys enjoy this chapter. Next chapter we'll be in Storybrooke!

**Five months later…**

 

          Grace padded up the steep stairwell to the library with a tea tray laden with Rumpelstiltskin's favorite chipped cup and a plate of peach tarts Belle had taught her to bake on her last visit … or the last visit before the lady of the Dark Castle had disappeared. Grace had grown closer to the imp in the last months, due to the fact her father rarely left his friend's side.

          They had been there for the tantrums and the bouts of depression. They had been there through the sleeplessness and near alcohol poisoning. Do you know how much he'd have to drink to suffer alcohol poisoning? Gods! He was immortal. His mercurial moods changed with ever-increasing speed and he was manic in his desperation to find his wife. He had tracked down every  _living_  mortal or beast he'd ever made a deal with to make certain they had no idea where his beloved might be. After four months, he was beginning to lose hope. Hope had never been his friend to begin with and the longer she was missing the more desperate he became.

          His deals were more severe now as well. He was ruthless and cold and even more calculating. It was as though he didn't care anymore, and his business was suffering. He only thought he'd been feared before and his price was always the same … information on his wife. If they couldn't give what he wanted, what he so desperately  _needed_ , then they were just out of luck.

          There was now an entire flock of sheep roaming the grounds of the Dark Castle, unfortunate souls who had called upon him in one of his moods and couldn't meet his price. Jefferson and his daughter seemed to be the only people in the entire realm the Dark One was able to tolerate. Grace knew better. Rumpelstiltskin took comfort in their company. She didn't want to think how much worse off he'd be without them.

          Grace set the tea tray on the edge of the worktable. He'd abandoned the tower room in favor of the library, insisting he felt closer to Belle there and if she was able to contact him he would be where her presence was strongest. She fixed a cup of tea for her father and then very carefully one for Rumpelstiltskin. Her father had passed out on the sofa from sheer exhaustion, sometimes being away from the castle for days to help with the ongoing search. He, also, had refused to give up the slim hope she would be found. She set his cup on the low table next to the sofa and moved to the imp's side. He was slumped over the worktable, his cheek resting against the hard surface.

          "Uncle Rum? I have your tea," she said softly, rubbing her little hand against his face and smoothing the hair out of his eyes. She no longer called him mister. He much preferred her to call him uncle and she didn't mind in the least. "You told me not to let you sleep past three and that was four hours ago. I was beginning to worry since you missed dinner," she continued, speaking in soft soothing tones as she tried to wake him.

          Rumpelstiltskin cracked an eye open, a ghost of a smile on his lips, the one he reserved for the little girl beside him. "Is that so, Gracie?" he asked, sitting up with a yawn. He took the cup from her and sat back, hoping the tea would clear the fog from his head. "What are you about, sweetheart?"

          "I made your favorite tarts," she grinned, sliding a plate in front of him.

          He felt his chest clench as the smell of the pastry wafted up to tickle his nose. His thoughts immediately strayed to Belle, his smile slipping away. He wondered if she was eating or sleeping properly wherever she was. "Thank you, Grace."

          "Aren't you going to try it?" she asked, her face alive with the fresh innocence of youth.

          "Maybe later, sweetheart. Why don't you find a good book for us to read later, hmm?" he suggested, knowing it wouldn't be long before her father read to her and tucked her into bed. He tried to smile at her, to let her know everything was fine, but couldn't quite manage it.

          Grace was very intuitive for someone so small, he thought. It was proven by her next words. "Lady Belle  _will_ come home, Uncle." She didn't know how little comfort those words brought him. At least someone believed as he and Jefferson did, that Belle would be returned to them.  And gods help the fool who had taken her away from him. Grace picked out her favorite book and shook her father's shoulder, telling him she was going to bed. He promised he would come to tuck her in shortly.

          Jefferson sat there for a long moment, regarding his friend as he stared down into the depths of the cup, lost in thought. The time had arrived for him to repay his debt to Regina for the potion she'd given him, the potion he'd used on his hat to rescue Belle and return her to the Dark Castle. He knew what he was facing. Rumpelstiltskin had told him this would happen the same night he'd confided in him about the curse. He wasn't happy about having to spend the next several months in Wonderland, but he was resigned.

          "How much longer, Rumpel?" Jefferson asked quietly, his usual jovial tone now flat with his resignation.

          The mage didn't lift his head to meet the hatter's gaze. "Another four to five months, depending on Regina's lovely disposition. The night Snow delivers the savior. The exact date isn't known to me, I'm sorry."

          Silence hung in the air, neither man wanting to put voice to what needed to be said. Finally, Jefferson thrust his hand out to shake his friend's hand. "I'm leaving in the morning. I've made arrangements for Grace to stay with her aunt while I'm gone."

          "Don't worry about Grace. I'll watch over her until I no longer can, until …" His voice trailed off, thinking of the near future when he himself would be trapped underground to wait for the curse to hit. His eyes were downcast, refusing to meet Jefferson's worried gaze. "Before I gave the curse to Regina, I made a slight modification. You will retain your memories, unlike everyone else. I need to have you keep an eye on our queen, so you can fill me in when I awaken. And one other thing, you will _not_ be parted from your daughter. She may not retain her memories, but at least she will be with you."

"I don't know what to say except thank you, old friend," Jefferson said, a tear at the corner of his eye threatening to fall. He didn't want to dwell on how the imp was going to manage by himself over the next several months alone in the Dark Castle. He turned on his heel and swept down the stairwell. He wanted to spend as much time with his daughter this evening as he possibly could, knowing it would be the last for a very long time.

 

*.*.*

 

_"I'm here, Rumpel. Can you feel me, my love?" she whispered softly in his ear, her breath caressing him and sending shivers of delight throughout his heated body. The heat had nothing to do with the fire in the hearth next to them and everything to do with the woman in his arms, the woman he adored, the woman to whom he'd given his heart. She was wrapped tightly around him, her arms about his neck, her hands playing with his hair, her skirts hiked around her waist, so she could wrap those long legs about his hips. How many nights had they sat on the rug before the fire merely holding on to one another and sharing kisses and simple touches?_

_"I feel you, sweetheart. I miss you so much. Please tell me where you are so I can bring you home," he begged, his eyes pleading as he pressed his brow to hers. "I need you, my Belle." His voice broke on her name and he could feel the tears welling in his eyes._

_She brushed them away with her lips, holding onto him just a bit more tightly, trying to reassure him. "You will find me, Rumpel. Please don't lose your hope. Have faith in us, my husband. If not in this land, then in another … we will be together."_

_"I love you, Belle. Please don't leave me. Please stay with me," he murmured, his lips scant inches from hers, begging her to stay with him. Her form was already beginning to shimmer and fade, just as it always did. "Stay. Gods, Belle ... I need you!"_

_"I love you, Rumpelstiltskin."_

          He sat up with a start on the sofa in the library, his hands reaching and grasping at thin air, his heart hammering a wild tempo in his chest. The familiar shadows of the library taunted him as he rose to his feet and ran a hand over his face to dispel the wetness he found there. The dream was always the same, yet still he looked forward to them. Not for the pain they caused, but for the joy of having her dream form in his arms once more. Soon, the dreams would be the only thing he had left of her. He'd made the deal with the little cinder girl, the deal which would ultimately put the last pieces in place. Soon, he would be just as trapped as his love and the waiting would begin.

          In a flash of temper, he raked his arm across the worktable, scattering potion bottles and ingredients across the room to leave a messy pile of debris on the wooden floor. How was it possible he hadn't been able to find her? How could she have just vanished without a trace? He'd searched in every corner of the realm and still … nothing. What magic could have shielded her so well from him?

          He had to go through the day to day agony of being parted from her, wondering if she was well or if … no, he couldn't make himself believe she was dead, that he would never see her again. He would wait for her until the end of time if need be. Perhaps, when they reached the land without magic, when the curse could finally be broken, and he used the potion to bring magic back, he would feel her, find her and be able to love her once more. Hope. She'd asked him not to give up hope. For her. How could he ever deny her anything?

 

*.*.*

 

          Belle woke with a start, her hands reaching and grasping thin air as she sat up and took in her surroundings. Her dream, it had been so real. She could still feel the warmth of his skin, his smell, the way he tasted on her tongue. It was more than cruel when reality intruded. What had awakened her? She was still quite alone in her cell. She turned to the mirror and reached out to press her hand to the silvery surface, her soft command ever the same. "Show me Rumpelstiltskin."

          She never tired of her mirror. It was a direct link to her husband and it filled her with a sense of being. She would never tire of watching him. His image instilled hope in her. Rheul Ghorm came to see her once a week to see if her nefarious plan was working, to see if the images in the mirror were slowly breaking down the love Belle felt for the sorcerer. She still worked diligently to break the cuffs from her wrists, but hadn't tried again after the bracelets had nearly fried the hair from her head last time.

          The foolish fairy was stubborn in her refusal to give up and let Belle go home. Belle knew it would never happen. If she was allowed to return to the Dark Castle, Rumpelstiltskin would learn the truth and that would be the end of the High Fairy who ruled over her sisters. She'd be turned to ash, but not before spending months in Rumpelstiltskin's dungeon undergoing torture after torture under his spell clever hands.

          Her only visitor besides the fairy, was the queen's huntsman. His presence as her caretaker banished any doubts Regina was in league with her enemy. She never visited, however, under constant surveillance from the imp Belle loved. The huntsman never spoke of his queen, instead choosing to speak to Belle in soft tones, listening when she spoke of her husband, answering her questions when he could. He was a very nice man, not at all what she had expected from one of the queen's henchmen. He even did his best to distract her when the scenes in the mirror were fairly gruesome.

          The fairy was always pleased to know Belle's eyes very seldom strayed from the mirror. She wanted the wife of the Dark One to watch, hoping in vain Belle would slowly begin to doubt the evil man she had married. But the more she watched, the more she seemed to understand Rumpelstiltskin. She knew he was acting out of grief as she watched his lovely amber eyes darken with pain. He was taking out his loss on those dumb enough to beg him for the gains of life.

          Belle remembered one particular woman who had called upon him asking him to kill her husband because she was tired of the way he fawned over her. He'd turned her into a goose, explaining she should suffer for turning away a man who clearly worshiped her. He'd told her she should be happy the man hadn't been stripped from her grasp, never to know his love again. Belle could feel every thread of pain slowly unraveling his heart and she had cried in earnest, desperate to comfort him.

          She spent most of her time with tears coursing down her face as she watched him diligently in the mirror. Her only hope came from the fact that one day they would be reunited, and the fairy would have to pay for keeping them apart. It worried her sometimes, thinking of what would happen to her when the curse was cast. Would she be released or simply transported to another prison in the new land. She hated to dwell on those thoughts, but it didn't matter anyway. They wouldn't have their memories for quite a few years afterward. Would he be able to find her after the savior arrived to break the curse? Or would she have to wait until the curse was broken? How could she bear to be apart from him for twenty-eight years?

          Belle was distracted as the huntsman crossed the magical veil and set a tray down on her cot, but her eyes didn't waver from the image in the mirror. She couldn't care less about the delightful offerings he'd prepared for her. At least she wasn't being mistreated. He cared for her almost lovingly and acted as though his kindnesses to her could somehow make up for his guilt over her captivity. But nothing short of her release could endear him to her. She'd heard all about how the queen had stolen his heart, literally from his chest, and how he was under the queen's control. She'd told him to man up and take it back. She had no room in her present situation to offer sympathy. She'd warned him if he didn't like his life it was up to him to change it. No one else could do it for him.

          "Milady, would you like me to pour your tea?" he asked softly as he sat down next to her, the tray between them.

          "Maybe later," she said offhandedly. What was Rumpelstiltskin doing with that princess in her garden at night? Damnit! He was drinking again. "Alcohol isn't going to make it any easier, Rumpel," she scolded the mirror. She talked to the mirror quite often, even though she knew he couldn't hear her voice. But it helped for her to voice her opinions to him.

          The huntsman poured her tea and prepared it for her just as she liked it. She had stopped complaining recently over his clumsy attempts to make a decent pot of tea and he wondered if maybe he'd finally gotten it right or if she just didn't care any longer. He set the cup in her palm and wrapped her chilled hands around the warm china. She ignored the offering as it warmed her hands, her eyes never leaving the mirror. "He's drowning himself in drink again?" he asked cautiously.

          Belle took a hesitant sip of her tea, feeling the warm brew soothe her parched throat. Her brow creased as she watched. "Something is terribly wrong with this. He never alters a deal once it's made."

          "Maybe the offer was more than he could ignore."

          "No, he suspects something." She peered closer to the mirror to try to discern his emotions, that hidden spark behind his pitch-black eyes. Resignation? She watched the way his hand shook slightly as he took the quill from the princess and signed his name to the contract she offered. As he crossed the t's and dotted the i's, the blue haze of fairy magic enveloped him, freezing his magic and rendering him immobile.

          Belle shot to her feet, rage coursing through her that someone had dared to strike out against her husband. "That little witch! And just what the hell does Charming think he's doing?" she fumed. She could feel her magic surge to her fingertips, crackling and trying desperately to get free. The huntsman felt a generous shock as he grabbed her upper arms in an attempt to calm her. "Get off me," she hissed, her eyes flashing blue daggers at him.

          "I'm sorry, milady, but is there any reason to get so overset? It's not as though you can rush to his rescue," he reasoned, sitting once more on the small cot and watching her warily.

          "You don't seem to understand. When Rumpel makes a deal with someone, he is very explicit when he makes the contract. He always explains the terms in detail and gives that person exactly what they ask for, no more and no less. He then makes certain he is very clear in his price. That  _girl_  knew exactly what the terms were and now suddenly she doesn't want to pay up, choosing to trap him instead. How is that fair?"

          "Life isn't fair, milady," he said in hushed tones, realizing just how true his words for, yet knowing they would offer her little comfort.

          "Charming is going to have to answer for his part in this, I’ll promise you that." Belle turned to the huntsman, her fingers fisting in his tunic, her eyes pleading. "Please let me go. He needs me, huntsman. I need to go to him, to comfort him, to tell him he's not alone. Please," she cried.

          He untangled her fingers from his shirt and moved to the veil, the empty hole in his chest - where his heart should be - giving a mighty heave. "I'm sorry, milady, I cannot."

          Belle hung her head in defeat and tuned him out, refusing to acknowledge his presence in her cell any longer. It had been her hope this time would be different, that this time he would listen to her pleas. Tears flowed unchecked as she sat down once more on her cot and turned her attention to the mirror, watching as her love was carted away to be imprisoned below ground in the mines. The walls glowed with the diamonds which could be transformed into fairy dust, the air shimmering with fairy magic which would bind his powers and leave him at their mercy. She pressed her hands to the glass and cried. "Oh, Rumpel."

 

*.*.*

 

 _Imbecile! Did she learn nothing from me in all those years? Foolish woman!_  How did Regina think the heart of a horse would be sufficient to cast the curse? He shook his head in frustration as he watched her transform back into a mouse and scamper down the tunnel. She had a big decision to make, but he was certain she would follow her lust for revenge to the bitter end. The heart of the thing she loved most. It was the only reason he hadn't been tempted to cast the curse himself. He knew he wouldn't have been able to harm his Belle. Never.

          Long ago a seer had told him it wouldn't be him to cast the curse. He had been confident he  _could_  do it if necessary. That was before Belle had come to the Dark Castle. He wished the seer had warned him about her as well. Then maybe he wouldn't have the gaping hole of despair in his chest. Everything he'd worked for over three centuries was finally about to become real. He should be happy. He was only a little over two decades away from being reunited with his son, his Baelfire. But what was the point if he didn't have his Belle to share him with. How could they be a family without her?

          He had been able to get something for that bit of information. He'd made Regina promise him a life of comfort, but the sting to her came when she agreed to obey his every request as long as he said "please". Oh, he would have so much fun with that little promise. Oh, yes. The queen hadn't been the only visitor he'd had recently.

          The Charmings had come begging for his insight, his  _help_ , wanting to know what they could do to stop Regina. He'd gleefully told them about their child, born out of true love and the only one who would be able to break the curse. She would find them, and they would have their happy ending. But the child must be protected for the prophecy to come to pass. It was up to them to find the way. His price? The child's name.

          He desperately needed to know the name of the savior and Snow was only too honorable not to bow to his request. That was how he found himself sitting quietly in his cell, for once not tormenting the guards as was his favorite hobby, writing her name over and over again on a spare bit of parchment. He had committed the name to memory, yet he continued to write. What else did he have to do?

 

*.*.*

 

          "What do you know of the queen's plan to destroy our realm?" the blue fairy demanded of Belle as she stood on the other side of the magical veil leading into her cell.

          Belle snorted and continued to ignore her, watching her husband doze lightly in the mirror. His features were softened in sleep, his expression unguarded. She'd watched him sleep many times even before she had been abducted and imprisoned. It always made her happy, knowing this man had given her his heart after guarding it for so long.

          "I asked you a question, princess."

          "Piss off!"

          The fairy ground her teeth together in vexation. "I need to know."

          "Then ask Regina. Why would I know anything about her plans? Do I look like I have tea and crumpets with her every Thursday?" Belle asked, hoping her voice wouldn't betray her. Soon. It would happen soon. "And even if I did know something, you would be the last person in the realm I would share my information with."

          "Fine."

          Belle smiled and turned back to the mirror.

 

*.*.*

 

          It was coming! Finally, the curse was upon them. The fairy magic binding him to his cell in the dwarf mines shimmered as their spells slowly diminished into nothingness. He could feel the darkness creeping along his skin, the resurgence of his magic rippling through his veins, yet he didn't move. He was where he needed to be, a seeming captive to those who could do nothing but hold their breath and wait for the inevitable.

          Oh, the power, the darkness. He inhaled sharply, drinking it in like it was the nectar of the Gods. One step closer to Bae, one step closer to finding his beloved. He pressed his back against the cold granite and slid down the wall to sit on the dirt floor, closing his eyes and preparing himself for the oblivion. For twenty-eight years he would live without his memories, without the crushing pain of loss in his chest, without her, his Belle.

          Rumpelstiltskin fought against the tears welling in his eyes as his thoughts turned to his love. Where was she? Was she alone and frightened? He should be with her in this moment. He had promised he would be with her, that he would protect her. Another promise broken. He cracked open an eye to watch the guards panic and run desperately down the tunnel, leaving him alone. He welcomed the solitude in these last moments, these last moments to lay raw and bleeding in his grief.

          "Belle …" Her name fell from his lips for the first time in months and nearly crippled him, robbing him of breath and making him dizzy. "I wish you could hear me, dear heart. I wish I could tell you how much you mean to me, how much I love you. I never gave up, sweetheart. I searched for you until it was time for this," he said, gesturing to his surroundings with a bitter smile.

          "I never told you about this part and how it was necessary. You would've been angry with me, wouldn't you?" He brushed the hair from his eyes as the tears flowed unchecked down his face. "I miss you, my love. I miss your smile, and your laugh, and I miss the way you used to look at me … look at me with all the love in the world shining in your eyes." His voice broke on a choked sob. "I never understood why you loved me, Belle, but I would give anything to hold you just one more time." He ground his teeth together, fighting for control, but it didn't help. He was powerless in his grief, in his regret and in the love he felt for her. "I failed you, Belle. I'm so sorry, so sorry, so sorry …"

          The blackness swept through the tunnel like the most violent storm he'd ever seen, unyielding and devastating everything in its path. He rose to his feet and opened his arms to embrace the encroaching darkness.

 

*.*.*

 

          Belle pressed herself against the mirror, sobbing uncontrollably as she listened to Rumpelstiltskin tell her goodbye. He was weeping as he spoke of his love and his regret and his worries and her heart shattered into a million pieces. All because of a fairy on a power trip. The Forbidden Fortress where she'd been held for months was breaking apart around her, and still she sobbed, crying out to him.

          "You didn't fail me, Rumpel. You're here with me at the end. I'm not frightened because you're here with me. I-I love you."

          Her brow was pressed to the mirror as she watched the darkness envelop him. She collapsed face down on her cot and waited mere moments for the darkness to swallow her whole, her last thoughts of him.


	29. Chapter 29

**Thursday poker party … and hot wings?**

 

          Mr. Gold wearily popped back a Lortab for the pain in his leg and glared down at his ringing cell phone. Damn! It was Thursday. The caller ID identified the caller as Paige Madden. Who gives a ten-year-old their own cellphone? Oh yeah, him. In a moment of weakness, he'd caved and given in to her pleading. What else could he do for his only goddaughter? It was the eyes. Every time she looked up at him with those wide grey eyes and perky little smile, he melted. He'd always had a great love for children. And it didn't hurt that she made an excellent cup of tea.

          "Hello, dearie," he said into the phone, a fond smile evident in his lilting burr. "What can I do for you today, hmm?"

          Paige giggled. "Hi, Uncle Nick. How is your leg today?"

          His smile widened. "You're not calling to pass pleasantries, so I'll ask again … what do you want?"

          "Um … are you still coming over tonight to play poker with Papa?" she asked, her voice quavering just a bit. She knew the only reason he played cards with Jefferson was so he could spend an hour grilling her about her grades and the perils of dating too young.

          Gold smiled at the nervousness in her voice. He could practically see her twirling a lock of her lovely auburn hair around her finger. "Yes, Paige. I will be there promptly at seven."

          "I ... I um placed an order at Granny's and I know you really hate to go to Granny's because Ruby flirts with you, but Ruby flirts with everyone and you shouldn't let it bother you, but I didn't want chips and dip for supper because I'm a growing girl and I need something more substantial and Papa said I could, but I couldn't pick it up after school because it was too early and I was wondering if you could pick up my order on your way over if you don't mind. Do you? Please?"

 _Holy hell! My brain is starting to bleed! How can someone so tiny talk so bloody fast?_  He blinked several times and sighed. "Yes, sweetheart, I will pick up your order from Granny's. On one condition …"

          "Already there, Uncle Nick. Extra-large order of hot wings."

          "And?"

          "And the sauce that goes with the big fried onion instead of the blue cheese because I know how you hate the blue cheese, and I made sure to tell them it had to be the other sauce, and not to even think of trying to pass ranch off as the sauce you like …"

          "Paige!"

          She giggled again. "Sorry, Uncle Nick. Gotta go, Papa's here. See you at seven." Paige rang off cheerily, leaving behind a blessed silence.

          He was really going to have to talk to Jefferson about her caffeine and sugar intake. Gods!

 

*.*.*

 

          Nicholas Gold rang the doorbell at precisely seven o'clock at Jefferson's large home on the outskirts of Storybrooke. He often wondered how the man had secured such a large home on his salary from the hospital. Dr. Whale was still renting from Gold, and he was an MD. But then, everyone rented from Gold. If they knew he had a standing poker party every other Thursday, such a normal thing to do, the hospital emergency room would be overrun with a multitude of victims suffering from shock.

          The door opened to reveal the squealing whirlwind that was his godchild. "Uncle Nick!" The food bags he was carrying were squashed as she threw her arms around his neck and gave him a hug and a kiss to his cheek. "It seems like forever since your last visit."

          He raised a brow at her, taking in her flushed cheeks and too-bright smile. "Its report card day, isn't it, dearie?" he asked dryly. He looked up at her father who had come to stand behind her. Paige's face fell, and he felt guilty for making her smile disappear. "It can't be as bad as all that," he said, trying to ease her dismay as he walked into the foyer and handed the food bags to Paige before removing his coat. She ducked her head and proceeded down the hall to the dining room where she had plates and flatware ready for their meal.

          Jefferson smirked, his brows raised as he studied Gold's eyes. Almost as if he were looking for something. Gold was becoming increasingly discomfited under his friend's stare. Jefferson sighed and shrugged his shoulders, apparently not finding what he was looking for. "She got a D in Science," he said in a bland tone.

          Gold hummed his displeasure as he followed Jefferson down the hall and took his seat at the table. He snatched the Coke from her place setting and sent her off to grab a bottle of water from the fridge. He shook the can of soda at Jefferson warningly. "If you stopped plying her with caffeine and sugar, she might be able to concentrate harder on her studies."

          "Yeah," Jefferson scoffed and looked mildly irritated with his friend. "This from the same man who buys her cookies and ice cream and any other thing she might ask for. You, sir, are a sucker when it comes to those eyes. Go on, I dare you to deny it."

          Gold glared at Jefferson and stared him down for a moment, a silent battle of wills. "Point taken. No more sweets, from either of us," he finally conceded.

          "Alright, what did I miss?" Paige asked as she returned to the table and began passing out generous portions of hot wings, cheddar and bacon potato logs and one large fried onion for them to share. She was having a nice chef salad and chicken noodle soup.

          "What's with the rabbit food, Gr-Paige?" Jefferson asked with a puzzled frown.

          Gold raised a brow. "I thought you looked forward to the junk food we reserve for two nights a month."

          Paige smiled brightly at the two men who were her whole world. "No, Uncle Nick, you and Papa look forward to the grease and the carbs and saturated fats. I, however, do not want to have a massive coronary before I become a teenager." She was only half-joking. "And don't forget about your doctor's appointment next week. You wanted me to remind you."

          Gold sat back in his chair and stared blankly at the girl. "I am  _not_  going to see that quack Whale. He got his medical degree from a cereal box."

          Jefferson choked on his drink and glanced sharply at his guest. He just didn't know how close to the truth that was. He watched them argue back and forth, Gold complaining about why he didn't want a check-up and Paige trying to make him see everything from her point of view. It didn't matter that Rumpelstiltskin didn't have his memories back, he was still immortal and definitely not in need of a check-up.

          But Jefferson couldn't exactly mention that to his daughter. She loved the old imp fiercely and was determined to keep him healthy. Jefferson would never be able to thank the sorcerer enough for the easy life he'd written into the curse. He had a lovely home, his daughter, a decent job and his memories. But the savior would be due any time now as it was only one more day before the twenty-eight-year time table would be complete. One more reason to watch Gold for signs he remembered. It would be nice to have a discussion about what really mattered instead of these rubbish fake memories which plagued them.

          "But, Uncle Nick, it's important to take care of yourself." She waved her hand at the food they were shoveling into their mouths with a pained expression. "What if something happens to you? I don't want to lose you," she said sadly, her eyes pleading.

          Gold pushed his plate away with a grimace. "Fine. Text me the information." He knew the doctor would forward the information he needed to Paige instead of him. He had a tendency to ignore his phone on a regular basis.

          Jefferson burst out laughing and reached for another forkful of potato logs to place on the plate in front of him. "Sucker!"

          "I beg your pardon?"

          "She is totally playing you, Gold. Paige just completely guilted you into a doctor's appointment you don't really need to get your attention away from her grades," Jefferson smirked smugly, sitting back in his chair and chewing around the smile gracing his lips.

          Gold's eyes narrowed on his goddaughter's flushed cheeks and lowered eyes. "I think she's been spending too much time at the shop," he said as his stare continued to pin her to her chair. He turned his attention back to his dinner, again wondering why he went along with Thursday evenings with the pair.

 

*.*.*

 

          Gods! How he hated having to collect the rent. Well, not the collecting so much as the walking all over town on his bad leg. His mood was foul, his tongue sharp and he thought he may have indigestion from the mountain of hot wings he and Jefferson had devoured the previous evening. Paige had thought they'd come to blows over the last wing. She'd called them foul-tempered children and marched off to work on a project for science to gain extra credit and try to raise her poor marks in the subject. They'd played poker and Jefferson now owed him four hundred and thirty-six dollars, but his heart hadn't been in the game. And now he was regretting his decision to make his rounds to collect rent. He should have sent Dove instead. No one ever wanted to argue with Dove, the behemoth who did odd jobs for him.

          A migraine was trying to form behind his eyes and he didn't want to hear any excuses as to why the rent couldn't be paid on time. There was no way this side of Hell he was granting extensions today. He slammed the door behind him as he exited the _Game of Thorns_ flower shop. Moe French had to be one of his least favorite tenants. He couldn't explain why he disliked the man so much, he just did.

          The florist just rubbed him the wrong way. One last collection and he could return to his home and put his leg up, take a Lortab and relax for once. He leaned more heavily on his gold-handled cane as he walked the two blocks to Granny's Bed and Breakfast, nodding to Archie Hopper as he neared the door.

          Gold entered the inn quietly, slightly taken aback to see the lovely blonde who appeared to be checking in for the night. She  _was_  quite lovely. Tall, long blonde hair and shapely figure wrapped up nicely in a red leather jacket, jeans and boots. Just the type of woman Jefferson was attracted to. He wondered if he should warn her about his friend.  _Hurry up, dear, I don't have all bloody day._

          Granny pulled out the inn's register, a fine layer of dust blanketing the cover. It had been quite a while since there had been a guest. How did she stay in business? "Now, what's the name?" she asked, her pen poised to fill in the information.

          "Emma. Emma Swan," the blonde answered.

          Gold's migraine asserted itself just then in the form of an entire lifetime of memories slamming into his skull. He had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from screaming in agony. He stared at the blonde, hiding every emotion he possessed. "Emma. What a lovely name," he said, keeping the amazement from his voice and opting for a pleasant tone.

          Emma turned to him with a wary look and said, "Thanks." She swung back around to the older woman behind the desk who was handing a rolled wad of bills to the man.

          "It's all here."

          Gold snapped to attention and took the cash from Granny, unwilling for anyone to see his inner turmoil. "Yes. Yes, of course it is, dear. Thank you." He turned to Emma once more and smiled over the hammers pounding away in his skull. "Enjoy your stay … Emma." He turned on his heel, not even bothering to sneer at Ruby on his way out. Dear gods!

          It was by sheer force of will he was able to make it to his car parked in the back lot of his pawn shop. The images wouldn't stop. Bae … Jefferson … Grace … Snow and Charming … deal after deal … his wedding … Regina … BELLE! He picked up his phone and punched in Paige's cell number, his hand shaking as he held it to his ear.

          "Hey, Uncle Nick, what's …"

          He cut her off with a curt, "Where is your father, Gr—er—Paige?"

          Her own voice turned serious. "Are you alright, Uncle Nick? What's wrong?" she asked worriedly.

          Gold forced himself to calm, to concentrate on driving the short distance to Jefferson's home. "Everything is fine, Gracie. I just really need to speak with Jefferson."

          "He's just getting home from work. Do you want me to bring him the phone?"

          The migraine continued, no doubt a side effect of his memories returning before the curse had been broken. "No, dearie, it's fine. I'll be at your front door before you can get his attention." He hung up as he pulled into the long drive. The crisp autumn air caressed his face, the crunch of dead leaves   under his feet as he moved swiftly to the front door and rang the bell … several times … which was not his normal habit.

          Jefferson opened the door and froze. He'd never seen Gold so agitated, his face flushed, his breathing heavy and a cold glint in his eye. If he didn't know better … He cocked his head to the side and studied Gold's face, searching for the spark of recognition he'd been waiting weeks to see.

          "Well, hatter, are you going to stand there gawking at me, or are you going to let me in?"

          Gold took a step back in shock as Jefferson stepped forward and gripped him in a bear hug. He rapped the hatter with his cane and glared at him.

          Jefferson swept his hand wide, inviting Gold into the house and smiled brightly with satisfaction. "Well, it's about time, Rum. Welcome back." Gold didn't answer, but proceeded directly to the bar in the den and poured himself a glass of scotch. After his third, he sat down on the white sofa, leaning his head back and closing his eyes.

          "You knew the consequences of getting your memory back early. Raging migraine?"

          "Yes. And would you please stop shouting?"

          "I'm barely speaking above a whisper, so Grace doesn't hear us," he said, plopping onto the other end of the sofa and pouring himself a cup of tea from the service on the coffee table.

          "Papa, is Uncle Nick here yet?" she asked, coming down the hall from her bedroom. She stopped abruptly when she saw Gold's haggard appearance. "Is he ok?" she asked her father, then to her uncle, "And where did you get that shirt?"

          Gold cracked an eye open and regarded the girl. "I'm just fine, dearie. No need to worry about me." He paused as her words sank in and he looked down at the gingham plaid shirt he wore. "What's wrong with my shirt, may I ask?"

          "Really? Have you looked in the mirror today? I'm thinking someone put that shirt in your closet as a cruel joke and you got dressed in the dark. Absolutely hideous, Uncle Nick," she said with a disgusted shake of her head.

          "Begone before I forget you're my favorite godchild and cut off your allowance," he barked, holding his head as another wave of pain hit him.

          Jefferson shooed her back to her room to study and she left reluctantly mumbling something which sounded suspiciously like  _I'm your only godchild._  He turned his attention back to his guest. "How much do you remember?"

          Gold sighed wearily and winced as another sharp pain lanced through his skull. "Everything."

          Jefferson stepped into the kitchen to retrieve a bottle of water and four Advil, handing them to Gold to help with the pain. "So, after you get rid of the headache, what do you want to do? What's the master plan? And don't try to deny it. I know you have one."

          Gold shot him a pointed look. There was only one thing on his mind, only one course of action he could take. "We're going to find my wife."

 

*.*.*

 

          Gold groaned and checked the time on the digital clock sitting on the nightstand next to the bed. Two days wasted on a migraine. Gods! He felt wretched. And what was worse, he wasn't in his own bed, or even his own house, for that matter. When he'd begun vomiting from the pain in his head, Grace had marched him down the hall to one of the guest rooms and ordered him into bed. She was worse than a mother hen as badly as she coddled him. He even snapped at her once or twice, telling her he wasn't one of her stuffed animals who joined her for tea. She ignored it all while her father had suffered frequent bouts of laughter.

          He could hold nothing down, but that hadn’t stopped her from bringing him pain meds and broth she insisted on spoon feeding him. He was going to have to let her pick an item from the shop as payment for her tender care, and Jefferson could suck an egg if he didn't like it. So what if he spoiled his godchild. Wait, she wasn't really now that his memories had returned. But he couldn't quite reconcile the two identities and wasn't really sure he wanted to in her case.

          He rolled over onto his stomach and shoved his head under the pillow. Two days wasted when he could have been combing through the files Jefferson had compiled on everyone in the town of Storybrooke, Maine.  _How original, Regina!_  Finally, the savior had arrived to break the curse. He was so close. But first he needed his Belle and he was desperate to find her. They were in a land of no magic which meant there was no magic to shield her from him any longer. She was alive, he'd bet his favorite dragon-hide coat on it.

          He sat up slowly and his head didn't pound. He staggered off unsteadily - Grace had absconded with his cane to make sure he’d stayed put - to the bathroom and took a shower. He was surprised to find a fresh suit hanging in the closet. No doubt, Grace had browbeat her father into going to his house for a fresh change of clothes. Once he'd dressed, he felt more like himself and finally left the guest room, hoping to find a pot of tea and the files Jefferson had promised.

          The hatter was sitting on the sofa watching the morning news when he peered around the corner leading into the den. "Is it safe, or is my little harpy going to run out and whack me with my cane?" he asked as he settled onto the sofa and reached for the tea service on the coffee table.

          "No," Jefferson said, reaching next to the sofa and passing the cane to him. "She's already gone to school."

          "Wait. Aren't you supposed to be at work?" Gold asked, picking up the file lying next to the tea service and opening it.

          Jefferson snorted in disgust. "I have been temporarily demoted due to taking too many days off. Can I help it if Cinderella is an unreliable babysitter? Sorry, Ashley," he corrected himself. "I start the night shift tonight at eight."

          "How long is that going to last?"

          "One month. Oh, joy!" Jefferson snarked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I do have to say this is the first thing that has happened differently in twenty-eight years. So maybe this is a good thing."

          Gold continued to peruse the file, his eyes searching for any clues which might be pertinent to his search. "Jefferson, this is a very detailed list of everyone in Storybrooke. Where is the page on Belle?"

          "Rum —"

 _"Now,_  Jefferson."

          Jefferson reached into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out a piece of paper which had been folded many times over. He really hadn't wanted to show him what he'd found on Belle. It was too painful. Gold unfolded the paper and began to read, his face devoid of emotion. He held it so tightly his knuckles whitened.

          "Belle French Gold, married to wealthy entrepreneur Nicholas Gold committed suicide after a long bout with mental illness. Her father, Moe French, had had her committed to the psychiatric ward of Storybrooke Memorial Hospital while her husband had been away on business in Europe and could not be contacted. It was stated Mrs. Gold had been suffering depression and was a danger to herself and others. She was treated for several months and appeared to be recovering when she relapsed and took her own life." He crumpled up the paper and tossed it into the fireplace, pacing restlessly and leaning heavily on his cane, rage burning brightly in his eyes. "That is complete horseshit!"

          "She's nowhere in the town, Rum. The curse didn't bring the dead to this land. Maybe …" Jefferson mumbled softly, dropping his head into his hands.

          Gold rounded on him furiously. "Don't you say it, hatter. Don't you dare say it. Belle is _not_ dead."

          Jefferson rose from the sofa and put his hand on Gold's shoulder. "I don't want to believe it, but in the years I've been here, I've never seen her, Rum. Regina would have made a life for her if she was alive, wouldn't she?" he asked, trying to make Gold see reason. "Lock up when you leave. I gotta get some sleep. Call me if you need me." With that he lumbered off to his bed to prepare for his evening shift at the hospital, hoping Gold would wait until he got home before he started smashing collectibles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I am so in love with these characters and they are so easy to write. *feels* Anywho, next chapter … Belle's back! Jefferson and Belle! Jefferson to the rescue … and Rumpel, too! Going to be fun. Looking forward to the reviews … please leave some. *grins*
> 
> A/n: My posting schedule is all off for this fic as I’d planned to post it over the month of December. However, on Dec 12th I had to be admitted to the hospital. Let me tell you, it was the most horrible experience of my life! I had to have surgery and a long recovery. I was in there for sixteen days, came home for a day and a half and then had to go right back for another three. Thankfully, now I’m home and on the mend and will resume posting my fics. I want to thank all of you for your wonderful support during this trying time. All of those of you who reached out to me while I was in the hospital hold a special place in my heart and always will. You made my recovery so much more bearable. So, I hope you enjoy the update and my love to you.


	30. Chapter 30

 

 _"I will go with him …forever."_ Her eyes screwed up and her brows drew inward in a deep frown as she rolled over and clutched her pillow tighter.

_"Why do you spin so much?" Why wouldn't he turn so she could see his face? It was important, but she didn't know why. Why couldn't she remember his face when she knew it was so very dear to her?_

_"It helps me forget," he said, his voice not as high-pitched as usual. He was softer somehow. She didn't want him to forget. Why … what didn't she want him to forget? She didn't want him to forget_ her _._

_"Don't leave me here. I don't belong here any longer. You are my home," she cried. Why had he brought her home? Her home was with him. Why didn't he want her anymore? She didn't want to be there with her father._

_"Goodbye, my Belle."_

_"No!"_

          She turned over in her sleep again, the pillow falling to the cold floor, the word, softly uttered, tumbling from her lips.

_"Why did you come back? I released you from our deal." he asked, his lips trailing down her throat, gently nipping and kissing the tender flesh until she moaned her pleasure in his ear._

_"Because I love you …" she gasped. His name was on the tip of her tongue. Why couldn't she say his name? She loved him, he was her whole world, she belonged to him … why couldn't she say his name?_

_"I love you, my Belle, my siren, my wife. Say my name, sweetheart."_

          Her breathing was ragged, coming in short pants now, sweat beading on her brow as she fought her dream lover, desperate to give him what he wanted.

_"I can't remember! Why can't I remember?"_

_"You're lost, my love. You have to find your way back to me. Please come back to me, Belle. I need you," he whispered against her mouth as he held her tightly in his embrace._

_"I need you, too."_

_"Say my name, dear one."_

_"I can't, please."_

_"Say my name, Belle."_

_"Ru …"_

          She jerked awake, gasping for air, drawing heaving breaths into her starving lungs. She had been so close this time. Why did she have to wake now? The dream had never changed before. Always, she awoke before she could say his name, her mind or her subconscious drawing her out before she remembered the name which was so desperately important to her. He needed her. Why? And why was it so important for her to help him? It was just a dream, just a dream to torment her and keep her from the much-needed rest she desired.

          Belle watched the security light outside the basement window flicker and go out all together before snapping back on. It was most irritating to her sensitive eyes. Why wouldn't anyone tell her why she was here or who she was? No one ever visited her or answered the questions her lips were dying to ask. The only people she ever saw were the orderlies and nurses and sometimes the doctor. They told her she was dangerous, and she couldn't be released because she would hurt herself or someone she cared about. They told her it was for her own good.

          How could these four blank walls and a bed bolted to the floor be for her own good? How could being plied with drugs twice a day be for her own good, or the barely edible food they slipped through a slot in the door. She craved sunlight and freedom and the man who haunted her dreams. Why couldn't she remember? And then there was the woman. The woman with raven hair and obscenely painted ruby lips who came once a month to stare at her, always smiling, her lips curving into a maliciously sweet grin. Did the woman think she wouldn't be here if she didn't come to see for herself?

          There were a few basic truths to her simple and meaningless existence. Her name was Belle. She knew this because they’d told her. She knew she was in a town called Storybrooke because it was stamped onto her hospital ID bracelet. And while she knew of modern conveniences such as radio and television and how to use kitchen appliances, she couldn't remember ever having used them. How long had she been condemned to this existence? Would they ever let her out?

          Her daily routine consisted of waking, eating a substance they called food here, an injection, sleeping, eating again, sitting and staring at the wall, eating, another injection, and more sleeping. And the dreams, always the dreams. As much as she feared the dreams, it was the only time she could see  _him._

          She pulled the thin blanket over her emaciated and undernourished frame and laid back upon the lumpy mattress, willing sleep to claim her once more, willing him to come to her again and make her feel alive.

 

*.*.*

 

          "How did you get roped into this detail, Madden?" The head nurse of the psychiatric ward asked as she sipped her tea and studied him with her piercing gaze. "It must have been severe to get stuck down here in the basement."

          "They caught me selling organs on ebay," Jefferson deadpanned. Gods! He was spending entirely too much time with Gold, he thought with a grin.

          She drew herself up to her unimpressive height and gave him the full blast of her fulminating glare. "Your humor will not suit you here, Madden. The work is fairly simple," she went on to explain. "Keep the patients quiet by any means necessary, administer their evening medication, deliver their morning meals and patrol the halls. There is nothing simpler. I run a tight ward and the work is usually quite sedate. You should fit in just fine as long as you follow the rules."

          Jefferson took in her appearance through his narrowed grey eyes, wondering who she possibly could have been in their land. She was tall for a woman, maybe five foot ten, with bright red hair in an odd style and the straightest back he'd ever seen. He wondered if maybe she'd had a steel rod surgically implanted along her spine. "Whatever you say, sweetheart," he said dryly, chuckling inwardly when her face angrily flushed fuchsia.

          She handed him a set of keys and a key-card. "I will not tolerate any disrespect," she snarled in an icy tone. "To gain access to the cells, you will need the key-card  _and_  the key. You are only to enter the cells when you are administering an injection.  _You_  are not to open cell four at any time, under any circumstances. She is a special patient and is not to be trifled with on the night shift. Do you understand?"

          "Yeah, whatever you say."

          "I will leave you to it then. If there are any problems, contact myself or Dr. Whale immediately," she instructed. She gathered her things, slipped into her coat and left the ward.

          Jefferson twirled a pencil between his long fingers and tapped it against a clipboard.  _Well, this should be fun._  She really shouldn't have told him not to, because now, of course, he'd made up his mind that he would. His mind strayed to what Nurse Fenway had told him about the patients, particularly the patient in cell number four, his curiosity piqued. He glanced down at the key-card and the ring of keys in his hands, a slow smile curving his lips.

          There was only one other orderly working the night shift, more of a maintenance man really. He should be easy enough to get rid of. Special patient, huh? He was now determined to ascertain for himself just how special she might be. What? Did she have a special talent like being able to belch butterflies while levitating? He'd pay good money to see that.

          He strolled casually down the ward and tapped the orderly on the shoulder, careful not to let his fingers brush the greasy hair hanging past the man's shoulders. Eww! "Mr. Grant wants to make your acquaintance," he drawled in a conspiratorial whisper, pressing a fifty-dollar bill into the man's hand. "Why don't you take a nice  _long_  lunch, hmm?"

          Without a word, the orderly turned and made his way to the stairs leading to the main floor of the hospital, leaving Jefferson alone in the ward. He looked through the flap on the first two cells, empty. The third showed a young boy no more than eighteen, flat on his back in a drug-induced stupor. He closed the flap and moved onto the fourth, the one he was most curious about. He was surprised, expecting to find someone who was more a cross between an ogre and a troll from the way Nurse Fenway had described her. His imagination was on overdrive this evening apparently.

          What he did find was a very petite woman with a snarl of heavily tangled chestnut curls spilling down the length of her back to her waist and covering the side of her face which was exposed, the other side in deep shadows against her pillow. The fine hairs at the nape of his neck rose eerily in the pale light emanating from the flap. She didn't look dangerous at all. He continued to watch her as he slid the key-card and placed the key in the lock, turning it with a quiet snick. She heard him, but did nothing other than draw her legs more tightly into herself.

          "I've already had my medication this evening," she mumbled, her words slurred and proof she spoke the truth. But in the gloom and the quiet, her words slammed into him, rendering him incapable of speech, the breath leaving his lungs in a whoosh. He would know that voice anywhere, that angelic voice - though it was somewhat rusty from disuse - had become an anchor for him after he'd lost his wife. That honey-sweet lilting voice which had read to him many an evening in another land, another life. That voice was precious, and he had to force himself to take small hesitant steps forward to keep from frightening her.

          "Belle?" he asked, his voice breaking with emotion.

          She pushed herself up, the blanket falling about her waist, and brushed the hair away from her brow. She didn't remember seeing this man before. He was dressed like some of the male nurses who dispensed her injections, but he'd never visited her before and never at night. That wasn't allowed. "What are you doing in my room? Who are you?"

          He stretched his hands out, palms up in a gesture of good faith to show her he meant her no harm. Still she scrambled away from him, tucking her knees to her chest as she pressed herself against the wall, trying to make herself as small and inconspicuous as possible, trying to protect herself. He spoke more to himself than to her as he sat down on the bed next to her and dropped his head into his hands. "Oh, my darling girl. You don't remember me, do you?" His tone was soft, soothing and warm.

          "Are you new?" she asked warily, studying him, her eyes traveling over the planes of his face.

          He could feel the moisture gathering in his eyes as his eyes met hers, warm grey to bright blue. "You don't know how long we've searched for you, sweetheart."

          Belle's eyes lit with excitement and she grabbed his hand in both of hers, a tiny glimmer of hope coming to life in her chest. "You know me? You know who I am?"

          "I know you very well, Belle."

          "So,  _Belle_  is my true name?"

          He nodded, a sad smile curving his lips. "What do you remember? Do you know how you came to be here?" Gods! Could she have been here since the curse had brought them to this land, for twenty-eight years?

          She unfurled her limbs and sat more comfortably beside him, as if settling in for a chat with a friend. "I only know what they've told me. They said I was dangerous, and my family put me here, so I wouldn't hurt anyone … or myself. I can't remember a time when I wasn't here."

          "Do you have any memory of your husband?" he asked, carefully watching for any signs of recognition.

          "N-No. Just that he was away when my father put me in here." Her brows scrunched together, her mind fighting to recover memories that just weren't there, or were so well hidden she couldn't access them. Tears of frustration gathered in her eyes, making them look like bottomless pools of aquamarine.

          He took her hand in his and rubbed his thumb across her knuckles. "I'm going to help you, Belle. I'm not going to leave you here, alright?"

          "How are you going to get me out?"

          "When I leave here in the morning, I am going to pay a visit to your husband. He will take care of everything. That you may depend upon. He has searched for you for so long. You are the most important thing in the world to him and he's been devastated by your loss."

          "My loss?"

          "He was told you were dead." He didn't tell her it had been him who had given Gold that crippling information. "But can you please just hang on a little longer, love? Can you be patient?" he asked, praying she would trust him to get her released. All he wanted was to scoop her up in his arms and carry her out of there, carry her home to Rumpelstiltskin.

          "Why would anyone do that? Why would they just leave me here?" she asked softly, hanging her head sadly to stare at their joined fingers.

          He tipped her chin up to meet his steady gaze. "Your husband has many enemies, Belle. They hurt him by stealing you away from him. But everything will be alright. Just be strong."

          "I will," she promised, a ghost of a smile playing at her lips.

          "I need to make sure the security camera doesn't come back to bite me in the ass, so I will visit you again before I leave."

          "Do you really have to leave now?" she asked, her smile fading. It was the first time anyone had talked to her … such a long time.

          "I promise I'll be back. But tomorrow, you cannot let any of your care givers know I've been here. You have to keep silent. Go about your routine and forget I was here. I will take care of everything."

 

*.*.*

 

          Belle watched in fascinated disbelief as the door closed behind her savior. Was that what he was? Could she really trust him to help her? Who was he really and how did he know her? A million questions ran through her mind as she sat frozen atop her bed. She toyed with a loose thread on her blanket as she felt the faint fluttering in her chest and recognized it as hope. Hope was not something this place had in abundance.

          And what of her mysterious husband? Was he the man from her dreams? Highly doubtful, she thought with a snort. Her dream lover had greenish-gold skin which sparkled in the firelight and lovely amber eyes the color of whiskey, filled with love. He was the man her arms yearned for. But he was from another life, who couldn't exist but in her dream world. He was real only in her dreams.

          Maybe she _was_ crazy. She pushed the thought aside and laid down upon the bed, covering herself with her threadbare blanket. She wouldn't give in to that elusive emotion which had seemed to awaken in her. No, she would wait and see before she gave into hope.

 

*.*.*

 

          Jefferson locked the cell door behind him, moving swiftly up the ward to retrieve his cell phone from his coat pocket. He couldn't afford to use the landline on the desk. He couldn't risk Regina finding out. Their lovely mayor had her hands in everything and he would  _not_  put Belle in any more danger than she was already in.  _No service. Fucking really?!_  He needed help and couldn't get service on his cell. Leave it to Regina to stick the psych ward in the basement.

          He glanced over his shoulder at the cell doors down the ward and shrugged. Well, it's not like they're going anywhere. He grabbed his coat and made his way upstairs and through the secret exit door on his way outside.  _Finally, full bars! Shit! I can't call Gold. Not yet. He'll just rush down here and storm the castle, so to speak. If he had his magic, I would just make the call and stand out of the way of the fireballs. No, not yet. We have to do this right. Who to call, who to call, who to call?!_ Lightbulb!  _Dove! I'll call Dove!_

          He searched through his contacts and found the man's number. When had he put Dove on speed dial? He shook his head to clear it as he waited for the man to answer. The voice was heavy with sleep when the line picked up. "Dove."

          "This is Jefferson Madden. I'm at the hospital at the inner exit door near the emergency room. There is a keypad next to the door, code 041461. I'll be in the basement," Jefferson said, his tone flat and emotionless. He couldn't start panicking now, Belle needed him, and Gold was going to kill him if he failed. At least he couldn't be turned into a snail first, he thought with relief.

          "Fifteen minutes," Dove replied and rang off.

          He pocketed the cell phone and returned to the basement to wait, pacing the floor and chewing nervously on his thumb nail. He didn't have long to wait and shook the man's hand in greeting. He was ever so thankful long ago Gold had put Dove's services at his disposal. Dove patiently waited for Jefferson to explain.

          "I need that security camera disabled," he said, pointing down the ward to the offending piece of technology. "Then I need the footage from this evening completely wiped. I mean gone, man. No one needs to know what went on here tonight." The man turned to carry out his orders, but Jefferson stopped him. "Dove, that includes Gold."

          "I can't do that, sir."

          "I will be seeing him first thing in the morning to explain everything. Let me talk to him first." The tall man nodded in satisfaction and set to work disabling the camera. He left the basement to pay a visit to the room marked SECURITY to finish the job and return home to his bed.

          Jefferson padded back down the hall to stand before Belle's door, lifting the flap and whispering, "Belle?" She stirred upon the bed and lifted her head to meet his gaze. "I get off in a couple hours and I won't see you until this evening. If everything goes well, you will be going home, love. Just remember what I told you about the others, ok?"

          She nodded her head vigorously, a smile lighting her eyes. "Thank you."

          He smiled that wonderful roguish grin he was known for and shrugged. "It's not the first time I've had to rush to your rescue and it probably won't be the last. Just be careful, sweetheart."

          "I promise."

 

*.*.*

 

          Jefferson left out of the hospital at eight o'clock that morning and called Ashley to make sure she had gotten Grace off to school before sending a text to Gold.

 _Heading your way. House or shop?_  It was several minutes before it was answered.

_Why? What's happened?_

_HOUSE OR SHOP!_

_House._

          Ten minutes and he was pulling into Gold's driveway and racing up the front porch steps. Gold was waiting with the door open. It was for the best to keep Jefferson from slamming his full weight into the door due to his haste. "Alright, hatter. What is the bloody emergency?"

          It took him a moment to catch his breath, refusing to quail under Gold's irritation. "I found her."

          And all hell broke loose …

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I know, I know, I suck so bad for leaving y’all hanging. Next chapter: Belle gets to come home after Rumpel takes Regina head on. Yeahyuh!


	31. Chapter 31

          Gold's eyes narrowed as he grabbed Jefferson by the collar and dragged him out of the house, down the steps and was almost to Jefferson's car when he jerked out of Gold's fierce grip. "Man! See, this is why I didn't want to tell you!" he hissed furiously.

          "You can explain on the way," Gold said calmly, though he was anything but. His entire body, every nerve ending was screaming her name. He'd known it all along. Soon he'd have her back in his house, his arms and then his bed. She would be back where she belonged, and he'd rain down the very fires of hell on anyone who tried to take her from him again. Hope surged in his heart, making it beat a rapid tempo against his ribs. Paige would be trying to take his blood pressure if she were here instead of at school.

          Jefferson knew better than to argue with the man, and Gold couldn't very well leave without him. Gold might want to beat him to a bloody pulp with his cane, but he still wouldn't be able to run off half-cocked with no information. He merely walked back to the house and shut the door behind him, choosing to find a comfortable seat in Gold's study to wait. He didn't have to wait long. His friend strode into the room, shut the door and rapped Jefferson in the knee with his cane. Jefferson yowled and glared at him.

          "Don't be such a baby, hatter. I barely tapped you. No less than you deserve for withholding vital information," Gold growled and took a seat behind his desk. "Now tell me what I want to know."

          Jefferson rubbed his leg and groaned. Someone needed to take that damn thing away from him. "I take it you still know how to be a lawyer?"

          "Jefferson …"

          "Alright. The fake memories are a piece of work, something we can kill Regina for later. But she didn't give Belle an alternate life. She's a complete blank, Rum. She only knows what she's been told by the staff at the hospital," Jefferson told him, rising to pace and work the pain out of his leg.

          Heat rose in Gold's face as he fought to maintain his control over the rage. Regina had tampered with his provisions for Belle and he was going to enjoy making her pay his price. "Complete amnesia?"

          "Yup. The way this is as it stands, Moe French had his daughter committed while  _you_  were in Europe on business. When you got back, they gave you some story about how she'd committed suicide." Jefferson rubbed the jagged scar on his neck as he paced.

          Gold's hands shook as he reached for the handle of his cane, his knuckles white. "His proxy signature on those commitment papers should have been voided upon my return … if this had actually happened. As her legal husband, I should be able to easily procure her release," he murmured in a low tone, more for himself than Jefferson's benefit. The wheels were spinning at an alarming rate in his head, planning each step carefully to the last detail.

          "But we can't let Regina get wind of this and have her move Belle to another location. And won't you need a marriage license?"

          Gold pulled a file from the bottom drawer of his desk and withdrew a manila envelope. He carefully withdrew a document and laid it on the desk before him. Jefferson smiled. "You didn't think I'd come over without proof of my contracts, did you? This is the most important contract I possess … it was not going to be left behind." He lovingly caressed the raised ink on the document, his index finger tracing her beloved name. He closed his eyes and willed her image to his mind as she'd been on their wedding day, their wedding night, swimming in the lake, having a picnic in the orchard, in her lovely sapphire gown at the Charming's wedding, naked beneath him in bed … The list was endless, and he could see her so clearly.  _Soon, my love._

          "Excellent."

          "Indeed. I'm going to get started on the paperwork. Have Dove fetch Spencer for me. He owes me a favor."

 

*.*.*

 

          Jefferson ground his teeth together and tried to remain stoically professional in light of Gold's wrath. "I DON'T GIVE A DAMN WHAT YOU'VE GOT TO DO! I WANT IT DONE TODAY. IF THOSE PAPERS AREN'T IN MY HAND BY THREE O'CLOCK I WILL HAVE YOUR HIDE. NO ONE BREAKS DEALS WITH ME, DEARIE!"

          Jefferson could hear the anguished voice of the DA over the phone, promising he would do all that he could, but the papers had to be filed and it could be as late as tomorrow morning before she could be released.

          Gold's tone reached that deadly quiet which sent waves of fear rippling along Jefferson's spine. "Oh, and, Spencer, if Madam Mayor gets wind of this and tries to stop us, you will find yourself permanently removed from Storybrooke. And I know that's not something you want to experience." He slammed the phone down and dropped into the leather chair behind his desk. "Bloody arrogant ass!"

          "Well, he was a king at one time," Jefferson murmured quietly, not wanting to anger him further.

          Gold cut a look at him so filled with disdain, Jefferson sank down further into his chair. He called Dove and sent him to Spencer's office to "make it happen". Jefferson called Ashley and asked her to pick Grace up after school and stay with her again tonight, saying he was going to crash at Nick's until his shift tonight. He would see them both tomorrow. Hopefully. He left Gold alone with his thoughts and slunk off towards the guest room. Just like old times, he thought with a smirk. Danger, intrigue, damsels in distress. Poor Belle. Why did she always have to be the damsel?

 

*.*.*

 

          Spencer was stalling on purpose, Gold fumed silently. He was showing great restraint as he hadn't smashed his study to bits in a fine fit of temper … yet. He was fighting down panic as he grabbed his keys and drove across town to Dr. Hopper's office. He growled at the traffic. He snarled at the lack of parking and ground his teeth at having to walk up the damn stairs to the offices of the doctor. He should be at the hospital, intimidating the staff into giving him what he wanted … his wife. If they'd been in the Enchanted Forest, he would have simply used his magic to dispose of any who opposed him and taken her back. If he'd been able to find her in their realm, he wouldn't be having this problem right now.

          He rapped on the office door loudly with the handle of his cane and waited. He lowered the cane back to the floor so as not to frighten the good doctor. Archie Hopper was just a wee bit on the timid side as it was. The door opened, and Hopper stared at him in confusion, no doubt wondering over his presence. The rent had been paid just days ago, after all.

          "Mr. G-Gold, W-What can I do for you?" Hopper asked, stepping back to allow him into his office. "Would you like to sit down?"

          Gold hesitated. He was completely out of his element with the doctor, but this was for his Belle. For once, he would have to sit and explain things to someone he didn't quite trust. Actually, he could count on four fingers the people he  _did_ trust. "I'm here about my wife."

          "I-I beg your pardon, did you say your w-wife? I didn't know you were married, Mr. Gold," the doctor said, disbelief coloring his tone.

          Gold's teeth gnashed together, and he prayed for patience. He was sure Hopper wouldn't be the last to suffer this reaction. It would have been so much easier to blurt out the truth.  _Before Regina had cast the Dark Curse - which brought us all here to the land without magic - some entity stole my wife to hurt me. Now I've finally found her, but can't get her back until the bloody paperwork is in order. Stupid bloody fake fucking memories!_

          He cleared his throat, and wet his suddenly dry lips. He raked a frustrated hand through his hair, and yet the words still wouldn't come. Damn! "Some time ago, while I was away on business," he explained in a matter-of-fact tone, the words threatening to burn a hole in his tongue, "I was told her father had her committed to an institution. I couldn't be contacted at the time. Don't ask why, I don't remember," he snarled testily, forestalling the doctor's interruption. "I was also told she committed suicide."

          "Oh, Mr. Gold, I'm so sorry," Hopper offered only to have Gold wave him off.

          "She's not dead. She was recently found in the psychiatric ward of the hospital. She's not crazy, she's not dangerous and I want to bring her home. I need you to evaluate her immediately."

          Hopper furiously scribbled on his notepad, taking down Gold's every word. "I could see her first thing in the morning."

          "How about now? Are you free this afternoon?" Gold asked, his eyes narrowed menacingly. His body language had brutal death written all over it.

          Hopper gulped audibly. Everyone saw Gold as the town monster, but he’d never thought he would actually witness the reasons to make the claim an actual fact. "I believe that could be arranged."

          Gold rose to his feet and moved to the door. "Excellent. Await my call." He exited the building and called Dove. "What news?"

          "I have him with me now, Mr. Gold. We're just leaving the Clerk of Court’s office. I've already called the Sheriff's office and asked for Graham to meet us at the hospital."

          "Excellent." He rang off without saying goodbye. He had no time for pleasantries. He called Hopper. "Doctor, if you would like to ride with me to the hospital, I'm downstairs waiting. I don't  _like_  to be kept waiting, Hopper." He rang off and slid into the driver's seat. Archie emerged moments later with a messenger bag containing his notes and his ever-present umbrella hooked over his arm. Gold swung the car into traffic, forcing himself to drive the speed limit on his way to the hospital.  _I'm coming, love._

 

*.*.*

 

          Dr. Whale stared down at the paperwork before him and felt the color drain from his face. How had they discovered one of the Mayor's most closely guarded secrets? The front of the ward was crammed with bodies all waiting for an answer. He never should have transferred Madden down to the ward, but the man had needed to be taught a lesson. He should have known Madden would cause trouble no matter what department he worked in. If it could be proven he was behind Gold's sudden interest in their patient, he would definitely fire the man. He didn't care who Madden’s poker buddy was.

          Gold stood watching him slowly go over the paperwork in his hand, his emotions barely hidden behind the mask of indifference and disdain he normally wore, the behemoth, Dove towering over his shoulder and waiting to lend his assistance if needed. The District Attorney, he looked at once bored and fearful. He must owe Gold just as nearly everyone else in this town. But he himself was not looking forward to having to make the call to Mayor Mills.

          This was her pet project and she was going to be livid with the interference. The longer he stalled, the angrier and more impatient Gold seemed to become. He turned the page to the court order stating Dr. Archie Hopper would re-evaluate Mrs. Gold's condition before she would be able to be released into her husband's custody. Damn! Gold never missed a trick.

          "Well, uh, Dr. Hopper. Let me just show you to Mrs. Gold's room so you two can begin the consultation and —" Whale pulled the keys from his pocket as Hopper moved forward to follow him down the ward. But Gold stopped him, that infernal cane moving up swiftly to block his path.

          Gold's voice, filled with menace, was nearly as cold as his dark eyes as they landed on Whale. "I will be seeing my wife … _first_. I want to assess the damage you've done firsthand to see what charges I may be bringing against you." He moved closer to Whale and the doctor could feel the fury rolling off the shorter man. "And believe me, Whale. There will be charges." He moved down the ward, calling over his shoulder. "Sheriff, if you would be so kind as to join us. And Jefferson."

          Whale was left alone with Spencer at the desk and decided he could take a chance to notify Regina.  _Please be busy. Please don't pick up._ She answered on the third ring. "What is it, Whale? I'm in the middle of a meeting with Dr. Howard and I don't have time for this," she replied, her voice laced with irritation.

          "Glad to know you're in the building. We seem to be having a slight problem with your friend in the basement," he whispered frantically into the phone.

          "Gold?" He winced as raw fury resonated over the line.

          "Yes. And he's got legal documents demanding her release," he warned her, glancing down the ward to watch Madden use the key and the electronic keycard to open the door. "The DA, Sheriff, Gold, Hopper and Madden are crowding the ward as we speak demanding her release. Thought you might want to know." He rang off, expecting to hear the clacking of her high-heeled designer shoes against the linoleum.

          Jefferson used his own keys to open the door, but stopped and put a comforting hand on Gold's forearm. The soft brown eyes swinging up to meet his gaze were so full of hope and longing. "Let me go in first, alright, Nick? We don't want to frighten her, and I've already established a bit of trust with her." Gold nodded reluctantly and waited at the door, out of sight, as Jefferson moved forward into the gloom of Belle's cell.

          She was sitting up in the bed, her back against the wall, her knees pressed tightly to her chest, her blanket wrapped tightly about her petite frame. His face was cast in shadow and she flinched as he reached out a comforting hand to her. Her voice was a raspy whisper as she asked, "Jefferson? You came back …"

          He smoothed his hand over her hair, offering solace from the pain of loneliness she'd suffered for so long. "I promised you I would, didn't I, sweetheart?"

          She grasped his hand in both of hers, hope springing to life within her, thrilled beyond measure he had kept his word. "You've come to take me home?" she asked, happy tears gathering in her eyes to spill over her pale face.

          "Better. Your  _husband_  has come to bring you home," he said softly, trying to maintain a neutral tone so as not to frighten her. She stiffened. "Don't be afraid, Belle. Nick loves you very much. He would never harm you." Her brow puckered, and her teeth worried her lower lip. "Would you like to see him?"

          Belle closed her eyes briefly, her mind immediately going to the lover of her dreams and wondering if it could possibly be him waiting for her just outside that door. "Yes. Yes, I-I think so."

          Jefferson rose and stepped to lean against the wall in a non-threatening pose, assuring her he wasn't going to leave her alone. "Hey, Nick, you can come in now," he called softly.

          Gold was a complete mess, unable to believe he would be reunited with his beloved. What if she rejected him? What if his new form in this land frightened her because she couldn't remember? He had to remind himself that just because she had accepted and even loved his form in their realm, it didn't mean she could do the same here in this land. Here he looked like the crippled impoverished spinner he had been centuries ago before the Dark One had transformed him into a monster. What if she couldn't accept him like this? All his doubts began to surface in his mind in a litany of what ifs.

          He felt Jefferson's hand on his shoulder, his grey eyes warm and sympathetic. "Stop beating yourself up out here and come greet your wife," he insisted softly.

          Gold remembered the same wary caution in her eyes as on the day he'd first seen her, when he had been the Dark One and her a princess. She'd been so brave, choosing to come with him, bound to a lifetime of servitude without a fear of the unknown. He could do no less for her now. He approached the bed slowly in his limping gait and sat next to her as she studied his every movement.

          He reached out his hand to her and she didn't flinch. He took that as a good sign. "Do you know me, sweetheart?" he asked, and he could feel the moisture on his face from his tears. This is not what he had expected to find. She had been nearly starved, the hospital gown hanging loosely on her frame. Her lovely chestnut locks were tangled beyond repair and she looked as though she'd never be warm again. He ached to take her into his arms, but didn't want to take the chance he'd frighten her away.

          Belle glanced nervously at Jefferson who nodded in approval. Gold remained perfectly still as she reached out her trembling hand to touch his face and he thought he would die from the sheer pleasure of her touch. It had been too long, too many years they had been separated. Ever so slightly, he leaned into her palm, his eyes closing to savor the way her cold hand felt against his flushed cheek.

          "Belle …"

          He fought to keep his hands upon the handle of his cane as she smoothed her hands over his hair and stared into his eyes before brushing the pad of her thumb over his lips. "I don't know you … yet somehow …" she whispered sadly, scooting closer to him on the bed to take in more of the heat she could feel radiating from him. He felt so familiar to her and if she closed her eyes she could imagine that once she had trusted this man, that she might even have loved him. But she had to know. "Did you put me in here? Did you send me to this place?" she asked, her voice pained, and it was all he could do not to haul her onto his lap and hold her close to his heart, promising her he would never do such a thing.

          "No, my love. Every day away from you has been agony," he admitted honestly, reaching up to brush a lock of hair behind her ear. His fingertips tingled as they came into contact with her. "They tried to convince me you'd died, but I never gave up hope of someday finding you."

          A tear born of hope traced down her cheek as she lost herself in the deep pools of his eyes. "I-I feel as if I know you, yet I can't ever remember meeting you before. Are you truly my husband?"

          He had to choke back a sob as she pressed her face against his neck and inhaled deeply, trying to commit his scent to her memory, praying for some spark of recognition. "Yes, dearest. And I've come to take you home. In time you will remember who you are ... and who we are together."

          She slipped her hands under his arms and pressed her hands to the firm plane of his back, snuggling closer as his arms came around her and crushed her to him. He made her feel warm and safe and secure in his embrace and no matter what happened she knew he would protect her and in time maybe come to love her again. "I would like that."

          "Yes. But first I need you to speak with Dr. Hopper. He's going to help us, alright? Do you feel like answering his questions?" he asked, pulling back slightly to meet her anxious gaze. She nodded her agreement and pulled him back to her, not wanting to break the tenuous hold she had on him. He’d offered his strength and his comfort to her and she didn't want to lose that just yet.

          Jefferson left the cell to fetch Dr. Hopper from the hall, leaving them alone for a few blessed moments where Gold was able to simply bask in the pleasure of having his Belle in his arms once again. It was then he heard it, the _clack, clack_ of heels on the stairwell and a smug voice demanding to know what was going on. He felt Belle stiffen in his arms, her hands twisting in the lapels of his suit jacket and her frightened whispered, "Please …" He curled over her, his arms tightening about her, assuring her of his protection.

          "It's alright, dear one. She can't hurt you anymore."

          Hopper entered the room behind Jefferson and offered a tentative smile. "Mrs. Gold?" he asked, thrusting out his hand to shake hers. She stared at him anxiously, still refusing to let go of her husband, her lifeline who was keeping her grounded and secure. She couldn’t understand _why_ she felt so close to him, _why_ it seemed he was a part of her when she had no memory to back the feeling, but she didn’t want to question it until some of the drug-induced fog cleared from her head.

          He cupped her face in his warm hands and pressed a kiss to her brow. "You have a chat with Dr. Hopper. I am going to go out into the hall and handle another problem, hmm? I won't be far, and when you're done with your conversation, we will leave this place," he assured her. He shot Dr. Hopper a menacing glare. "Isn't that right, doctor?"

          Seeing for himself the bright, intelligent spark in Belle's eyes, Hopper was confident he would be able to clear her for release. She seemed to know what was going on around her, and as long as she didn't show any violent tendencies, he should be able to treat her in his office twice a week and maybe help her memory come back. "Y-Yes, Mr. Gold. It shouldn't take long for her evaluation."

          "Indeed," he said before turning back to Belle and tipping her chin up gently to look at her. "I will be just outside that door, love." It took a moment to disentangle themselves. Even though she didn't remember who he was, she was as reluctant as he was to let go.

          Gold stepped out into the hall and ran a hand over his face, clearing it of his remaining tears. Regina must not see any outward sign of weakness she could exploit. He pulled the door closed, leaving it open a crack, so Belle wouldn't think he was locking her up again. She would need constant reassurance for a long time to conquer her fears.

          Sheriff Graham was waiting in the hall, quietly observing and making certain no one got out of hand. Gold ignored him as he waited for Regina to move down the ward to confront him. He was going to make her come to  _him_. It didn't take her long to reach his side, her ruby lips curled in disdain and ill-concealed malevolence.

          Regina watched him like a coiled snake about to strike, poised and cunning, trying to conceal her anger, though she'd never been as good at it as her former master. "What brings you here today, Mr. Gold? I know you hold immeasurable clout on the board of directors, but this ward is restricted even to you," she said, her voice filled with false sweetness.

          His hands tightened on the handle of his cane, the only evidence he was boiling mad. "Ah, dear, how soon we forget that nothing is restricted when I want something. How long did you think it would be before I discovered your duplicity, hmm?"

          Regina smiled and clasped her hands together, her spine stiffening. "I'm sure I don't know what you mean."

          "No matter. I will be taking my wife home and filing charges against the hospital for its role in this scheme. But don't think I am holding you blameless."

          A hint of fear entered her dark eyes before she could pull her features back into her cool mask. "Your wife is a danger to herself and has been undergoing treatment for quite a while with no success. Do you really want to bring her home and take the chance she might stab you in your sleep? I've done nothing wrong. Her recovery has always been our goal. Even if she is evaluated by Dr. Hopper and he gives her a clean bill of health, I'm afraid she can't be released back into society."

          His laugh was filled with bitterness as he took a step closer to her, his eyes flaring dangerously. "Do you really want to press the issue, dear? You need to remember, Regina. I'm the one with the power around here."

          "I—"

          He glanced over at the sheriff, who was growing more uncomfortable by the minute, before meeting Regina's glare once more. His lips pulled into a smirk. "Here's what is going to happen. You are going to go over the paperwork to make sure everything is in order. Then you will instruct your flunkie, Whale, to prepare her release forms and I am going to take my wife home.  _Please."_

          Regina had been about to argue, but immediately closed her mouth and shrank back into the wall behind her for a moment before she was compelled to do as he'd asked. He watched her move down the ward to carry out his command and he couldn't help the slow smile curving his lips with satisfaction. He knew that request was going to one day serve him well. He met Dove's cunning gaze and beckoned him forward.

          "Dove, take Jefferson to find some necessitates for Belle. I will take her clothes shopping when she's better adjusted to being out of this place. For the time being, I'm certain the two of you can find suitable sleepwear and casual clothes for her to wear around the house. I want them to be comfortable and  _warm."_  He continued to rattle off a list of things she would need immediately before handing over his credit card to the man. "Make certain Jefferson doesn't go overboard. If he comes back with something trashy from the lingerie department, I may strangle him with it."

          "This may take some time, Mr. Gold," Dove warned, unsure of how much longer his boss would be at the hospital.

          "I will have the sheriff bring us home and you can retrieve my car from the lot in the morning." He wouldn't be driving because of Belle's fragile state, instead choosing to hold her close on the short drive to their home.

          "Very good, sir," Dove said and made his way up the ward to relay his instructions to Jefferson. Gold watched with an amused half smile as Jefferson rubbed his hands together in anticipation, gave him a thumbs up sign and practically danced up the stairs.

          Hopper opened the door then to ask him to come in, his voice quiet and it worried Gold. It could just be the doctor's want to talk in hushed tones in the presence of his patient, or it could be the evaluation hadn't gone well. Gold was prepared to steal her away if he didn't like what the doctor had to say.

          "Mr. Gold, I don't k-know why she was admitted to this facility. There is nothing to indicate mental illness. The amnesia is a mystery to me, but with regular treatment, I think we may be able to bring her memories back," he said in all seriousness.

          Gold felt the tension ease from his body as he sat next to Belle. She immediately curled into him, his arms going around her to hold her there. His attention was only partly focused on Hopper as the psychiatrist continued.

          "She's bright and focused, alert and attentive to conversation. She will suffer bouts of uneasiness from time to time as she eases back into her life, but with you there to support her, I feel the transition will not be difficult. She also may suffer withdrawal symptoms as the drugs they were giving her begin to leave her system, but I will give you a list of signs to look for and how best to get her through it. She's going to need time to adjust."

          Gold smoothed his hand over her hair and she graced him with a soft smile, making his heart skip. Gods, how he had missed her smile. "What do you suggest, Dr. Hopper, as far as treatment?" he asked, still not looking at the doctor, his attention focused on the bundle pressed against his side.

          "W-Well, I would like to begin tomorrow … or the day after with her treatment. If you could bring her to my office —"

          "You may see her at our home until she feels ready to leave the house," Gold said, his tone brooking no objection. "I will of course pay extra for the  _courtesy_  of a house call."

          Hopper nodded and made more notes to the file on his lap. "Very good, Mr. Gold." He stood and moved to the door. "I will add my notes to the appropriate paperwork and sign off on her. Hopefully, y-you won't have to wait much longer to be released." He turned back to Belle. "Mrs. Gold, I will see you soon, alright?"

          Belle nodded, offering him a timid smile. "Thank you, Dr. Hopper."

          They were left together in her cell, wrapped in their tight embrace, his hands drawing soothing circles on her back and she felt better than she had in years, almost … happy. She didn't understand why she felt such a connection to this man, but she didn't want to dwell on it or even question it. She raised her head from his shoulder to study his impassive face. "I don't even know your name," she whispered.

          Gold traced the line of her face with one long finger, his eyes warm and his mouth curled into a small affectionate smile. "You can call me anything you want, sweetheart, but my name is Nicholas. Nicholas Gold."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Sorry this chapter completely got away from me. Longest one yet, but I wanted to make sure I covered everything without splitting it into two chapters. I hope everyone is happy with how accepting of him she is even without her memories. Have a good twist in store for how she gets them back, but for now they have to go through some adjustment. Maybe some fun and fluff. But then you know it's going to be fun with Jefferson around. Love my readers so very much. Thank you for coming this far with me. Your support is just amazing. Thank you for the follows and the favs. I'm so overwhelmed. Please don't forget to PM me or review to let me know what you think.


	32. Chapter 32

          They were nearly home, seated in the backseat of Graham's police cruiser, again wrapped in each other's arms. Gold was thinking he could definitely get used to this. She had her knees drawn to her chest, curled into him with her head on his shoulder. It seemed not even the unfamiliar sights of Storybrooke could draw her attention away from him. He smiled smugly as he thought of the feral snarl on Regina's face as he'd drawn Belle protectively to his side and led her from the ward.  _My point, Your Majesty._  

          Belle may have been half-starved and under the influence of drugs, but she hadn't a mark on her. That, in and of itself, had saved Regina's life. He knew how her mind worked, she had been his pupil after all. She knew how to play their game. She'd been waiting for just the right moment to use Belle against him, the moment when he would be vulnerable, the moment she could hurt him the most. He  _would_  have his revenge, it would just be less severe, and he wouldn't be able to enact it until Belle's memory returned and she could tell him exactly what had happened to her.

          "I don't think I like your name," she said softly as she brushed the hair away from his eyes. "It doesn't suit you."

          He smiled down at her, one of the rare genuine smiles he reserved just for her, the one completely without artifice. "Really now," he chuckled, pressing his lips to her brow. "And what is so wrong with my name?"

          Belle thought a moment as he pulled her blanket – a new one he'd had someone to procure for her, one which was thick and soft and felt good against her skin – more tightly about her. She was cocooned in his embrace and she smiled contentedly. "I don't know," she said hesitantly. "It's not a bad name, it just doesn't suit you." She lowered her voice, unsure if she had offended him. "Names have power and yours should be more powerful."

          His brows drew together in a startled frown, his lips parted in astonishment as his own words flowed from her lips. Could she be remembering, or was their time together so embedded in her subconscious, it was involuntarily fighting to break free? "Um … power, huh? When you're better, we'll have a long … um … discussion about power," he said suggestively.

          She drew back, her eyes holding a hint of trepidation, her cheeks flushing in embarrassment. "Don't fret, love. I wouldn't suggest anything which makes you uncomfortable." He was becoming comfortable with her again and couldn't stop himself from teasing her. He would have said more, but she became distracted as Graham pulled into the driveway of the old Victorian house.

          "This is our home?" she asked, curious enough to finally leave his embrace and stare out the window. "It's pink. Nicholas, why is it pink?" Her lips pulled into an amused grin.

          Gold quirked a brow at her, his lips stretched into a thin line. He'd always been disconcerted about the horrible color of his house, but he just hadn't felt like it would be a necessary expense to have it painted. After a while it had grown on him. "It's salmon, dearest."

          "Pink."

          Graham opened the door and offered her a hand, which she accepted. She shivered under the beam of the security light as she waited for Gold to join her on the paved drive, slipping her arm around his waist as he drew her to him for the short walk to the house. He turned to the sheriff briefly, thanking him for the ride and assuring the man he would call if there were any problems.  _When hell freezes over_.

          Belle was trembling again as he quickly unlocked the door and ushered her inside. He stopped to peruse the thermostat and turned the heat all the way to ninety, hoping it would help to warm her. She looked around curiously as he drew her down the hall to the kitchen and set the kettle on the stove. He bid her to sit on one of the stools at the island dominating the center of the large kitchen and rubbed her cold hands between his warm ones to try to restore some heat to her. It was just unnatural for his Belle, who had always radiated so much warmth, to be this cold.

_Isn't that why you wanted me to be your caretaker? To see to your comfort?_

_Belle, you don't want this. You don't want me._

_Tell me you don't want me._

_I can't._

          Belle squeezed her eyes shut and fought back the voice of her dream lover, more willing to concentrate on the man before her, the man there with her and very, very real. "Nicholas? Did we spend very much time together in the kitchen?"

          "Why, my love? Are you remembering something?" he asked cautiously. Her memories could come back at any time, but how much damage could it cause her in her fragile state. She needed to regain her strength. The kettle whistled, and he dropped her hands gently to her lap before moving away to prepare a pot of tea.

          "No, I don't think so. I just have dreams sometimes."

          He poured tea into her cup and fixed it just as she liked it with a slice of lemon and two sugar cubes. She seemed surprised as she took a sip. "I'm your husband. Do you think I don't know how you like your tea?" he asked, returning her smile. "Now, tell me what you dream about."

          "It's silly."

          "Nothing is silly where you're concerned. Tell me … please." He sat next to her on one of the stools and leaned his elbow on the counter, giving her his undivided attention. He was trying desperately to respect her personal space, but couldn't stop himself from gravitating towards her. It was as if she was his sun drawing him in to orbit about her.

          She studied him, finding so many similarities between him and her dream lover. The quirk of his brow, the way he held his posture, the curl of his lips when he smiled and the warmth of his eyes. "Promise you won't laugh at me?" she asked in a small voice, her lower lip trembling in her anxiety.

          He took her hand in his and rubbed his thumb against her palm as he'd done so long ago, the night she’d realized she loved him. "I promise, Belle. You can tell me anything."

          Why was everything so easy with this man? "Do … Do you think it's possible our dreams could show us a life we've lived before? That we could really be that person in the dream?" she asked, her eyes probing his. She dreaded the question which sprang to her lips, waiting to spill forth. She didn't want him to think she was crazy. She didn't want to go back to the hospital and leave him. "Do you think you could have been my husband in another life?"

          His heart stopped, the breath rushing from his lungs in a loud whoosh. Gods! What memories had been plaguing her sleep? Hopefully none where he'd been an ass and sent her home to Avonlea. He didn't want her to remember those. "I do, love. I  _do_  think it's possible."

          Belle sighed in relief and sipped at her tea, trying to decide what she could tell him about her dreams. "You don't think I'm insane?"

          "Not at all. Tell me about the dreams," he urged, his voice coaxing her, mesmerizing her to relax and spill her innermost secrets.

          She took a deep breath and stepped off the precipice. "I dream of you, but  _not_  you. I feel like you're the same man, but different." She glanced down at her empty cup and set it aside. "I'm not making any sense, am I? What if Dr. Hopper asks me about them and I end up back in that cell?" Tears began forming in her jewel-bright eyes and he reached up to brush them away, drawing her off the stool to stand before him.

          "They are only dreams and that is how Hopper will see it. You are not going to have to go back, Belle. I will  _not_  allow it; do you hear me?" She pressed herself closer to him, absorbing his heat, her hips cradled by his thighs as he wrapped his arms around her and rested his head atop her hair. "I can't be parted from you again, Belle. I don't think I'd survive it."

          She felt better, hearing those words, spoken with such intensity. She jumped, her hands twisting in his lapels as the front door slammed. She tried to make herself invisible against him, suddenly very afraid. His arms tightened around her and he whispered nonsense into her ear until she relaxed. Jefferson peered around the corner cautiously and strolled into the kitchen, his arms laden with shopping bags.

          "I sent Dove off. Hope you didn't need him any longer." Jefferson said, piling the bags onto the table. "I got her two nightgowns, underwear … except for her bra, didn't know the size. Also, a pair of jeans, a perky little pull-over sweater, some pajamas, and other things. Whatever she doesn't have that she needs, let me know and I'll go shopping again before work tomorrow. Speaking of which, I really need to get going if I'm going to make my shift. Do you think Regina will have me fired? Not that I care …"

          Belle leaned up on tiptoe to whisper into Gold's ear. "Does he always talk so fast, or so much?" she asked, making him laugh and give her an affectionate squeeze.

          She gave a squeal of alarm as Jefferson grabbed her hand and pulled her into a bone crushing hug. "Oh, Belle, I've missed you, my darling girl." He kissed her cheek. "I love you." He kissed her other cheek. "I love you." He kissed her brow. "I love you." He kissed her nose. All the while she was struggling to get away, her eyes as wide as dinner plates.

          Gold whacked him on the shoulder with his cane. "Knock it off, hatter!" he hissed, stepping between Jefferson and his wife. Jefferson rubbed his shoulder and winked at Belle over Gold's head. "Out! Go on, off with you. Go to work and make yourself scarce."

          "You know; I think I like you-know-who better. He would just threaten me with snails. You, however, are lethal with that stick," Jefferson said with a wide grin and waved goodbye over his shoulder as he slinked out of the kitchen.

 

*.*.*

 

          Gold was disgusted when all he could find in the house was some tomato soup and the fixings for grilled cheese sandwiches to go along with it. Yes, he ate out entirely too much and his pantry and refrigerator were scarce. He would have to send Dove to the grocery store tomorrow. There was no way he was going  _anywhere_  unless Belle was with him, and he didn't think she'd be up for the grocery store.

          He shuddered just thinking of the place with its packed aisles and stressed housewives screaming at their little ones who only bawled louder. No, best to send Dove. Belle jumped at the slightest sounds, she curled in on herself often, and her delicate hands trembled … all the time. And the more he took in the lost look in her eyes, the more his hatred grew for her captors. She ate every crumb of her food and then half of his, at his insistence. Another thing he wanted to work on was her weight and getting it back to how it had been.

          Jefferson had bought her a nightgown, pale blue silk with very tiny straps which would hit her about mid-thigh, causing Gold to picture her in it. Now he was going to have to take a cold shower and later strangle Jefferson with the offending scrap of silk. He'd also chosen two sets of pajamas, one pink with red roses and another blue with little bunnies. Gold rolled his eyes and let Belle choose between the two. She chose the bunnies and a pair of underwear. Gold chose a pair of fluffy socks to put on her cold feet. He led her upstairs to the guest room across the hall from his own with the en-suite bathroom.

          "There should be toiletries in here, but tomorrow I'll have Dove get you anything else you may require," he said, pulling a big fluffy towel from the cabinet and setting her clothes next to it. "If you need anything, I'll be across the hall. I'll check on you in a bit, my love." He kissed her brow and closed the bathroom door behind him as he went across the hall to his bedroom and sat down heavily on the bed.

          Gold took several deep breaths, trying to come to terms with the events of the day, as he kicked off his shoes and began disrobing. He was bone weary, but his Belle was a mess. And he wanted to know who was ultimately responsible for her condition. He knew from the months of searching for her in their realm that Regina couldn't have been working alone. There had been absolutely no evidence against her then; he knew because he'd had her watched day and night. But who would be insane enough to go against the Dark One? Cora had been banished to Wonderland before Regina had had her assassinated, so it couldn't be her. Regina had claimed she’d seen the body and Cora was truly dead. He would drive himself crazy trying to figure it out with so little to go on.

          He was down to his dark t-shirt and suit pants when his ears pricked up. Faintly, he could feel her distress and he wondered if the blood bond was trying to reassert itself. Could that be why she had been clinging to him since he'd first entered her cell at the hospital? Could she be feeling it as well and just not know how to recognize it. After all, even without magic it was still his blood in her veins.

          Gold knocked on the bathroom door several times with no answer, but he could hear her crying softly over the spray of the shower. He hated to offend her modesty, but he wasn't about to let her suffer alone. He opened the door. "Belle?"

          She was braced against the shower wall, the spray cascading down her hair as it flowed over her back, her shoulders heaving with her weeping. He didn't hesitate to step under the spray and enfold her in his arms. "I'm not crazy, Nicholas," she sobbed hysterically against his neck. "I swear I'm not crazy."

          The water was practically scalding, yet she didn't seem to mind. This was probably the first  _hot_  shower she'd ever had, and she still seemed cooler than she should to the touch. He didn't readjust the temperature, however. This was apparently what she needed right now. His body would adjust to the heat. "I know you're not crazy, Belle. It's alright, love. You're home and you're safe," he whispered against her ear. "I love you, Belle. Please don't cry." The spray of the shower masked his own tears. "Shh, don't cry, please … don't cry."

          He ran his hands over the snarl of her hair and grimaced. He first washed it, leaning her head back to rinse it before thoroughly conditioning it. The tangles slowly began to ease as he worked his fingers through it, his short nails scraping gently across her scalp. She didn't say a word, continuing to let him work through it. Her weeping had settled down into hiccups and she had relaxed into his chest. When he had done all he could with her hair, he urged her back under the spray to rinse the conditioner from her long locks. Done, he didn't move to turn off the water. He held her to him and rubbed her back in soothing circles.

          "Nicholas, you're ruining a perfectly good pair of pants," she murmured languidly. He laughed and pressed a kiss to her temple.

          "I realize that, my love, but you needed me, and I wasn't thinking about my clothes," he admitted honestly. His clothes could be replaced. He turned off the water and gently spun her around, gathering her hair in his hands and wringing the water from the damp strands. It was much longer than it had been before their separation. He would have to see if Zel would make a house call to trim it. But he would worry about that tomorrow.

          He stepped out of the shower stall and retrieved the towel he'd set out for her, using it to capture the remaining moisture from her hair. Tossing it aside, he pulled another towel from the cabinet and wrapped it around her, rubbing his hands up and down her arms to make sure she didn't catch a chill. She picked up her clothes and went into the bedroom to change, leaving him alone to strip out of his wet clothes.

          Gold opened the outer door to the hall and quickly went into his bedroom to dry off and put on another t-shirt and a pair of cotton sleeping pants before knocking softly on her door again. He'd remembered to grab a hairbrush to work out the knots in her hair. "Belle? Are you dressed, dearest?"

          He really didn't think he'd be able to withstand another bout of her nudity. It had been enough to stand in the shower and see to her. All that wet, naked flesh had brought memories of his own rushing back he didn't think she would be too receptive to at the moment. No, better to wait until her memory returned before he proceeded in that direction.

          Gold entered the bedroom and it took him a moment to locate her. She was kneeling on the window seat, her hands pressed to the glass, staring out into the night. He sat on the foot of the bed and leaned against one of the four posters, watching her and giving her the time she needed. He'd seen that damn cell Regina had stuck her in. He could feel the rage simmering just below the surface, as if the beast were fighting to get loose and ravage the village.

          She emerged from behind the curtain and gave him a small smile, but it lacked her spark, that certain light which was completely Belle, and his heart lurched painfully wondering when she would come back to him. "It's nice to be able to look outside. I couldn't do that …  _there_ ," she said, her voice as weak as her smile had been. He patted the bed in front of his folded legs and she moved to sit with him, her back to him. She moaned softly as he guided the brush through her hair. "I know this house is big, but it doesn't seem enough to contain you." She looked over her shoulder to meet his gaze. "Does that make sense, Nicholas?"

          "Tell me why you think so."

          She was hesitant to bring up the dreams again, but if she were to expect honesty from him, he should expect no less from her. "My dreams, maybe?"

          "Belle … tell me about the hospital. I think maybe if you talk about it, we can put it behind us and help you heal." The brush continued to glide through her hair, the tangles gone under his tender ministrations, leaving her locks soft as silk, the shine having returned. He only continued because he knew the simple act brought her pleasure.

          "There's nothing to tell, really," she replied, her voice flat as she remembered what her life had become. "I would wake in the morning to whatever they tried to pass off as breakfast. Then I would have my injection. Afterwards, I would sleep until they brought something for lunch. Then I would sit and stare at the wall for a while. After, I would have something for dinner and another injection. I would go to sleep and wake up the next day to begin again. Sometimes that woman would come and lift the flap on my door, so she could stare at me for a bit. She never spoke to me, but she would stare with these cold eyes and a smile which would chill the blood in my veins. She was … evil."

          Gold set the brush aside and ran his hands over her shoulders and down her arms, his fingers brushing against her bracelets. "Regina can't hurt you any longer, my Belle. I will keep you safe, love."

          "Can you tell me how I got these? I've had them forever and I can't remember who gave them to me or why they won't come off."

          He rested his chin on her shoulder and looked at the two-inch cuffs with their rose engravings, smiling as he remembered. "They were a wedding gift. I gave those to you." He pressed a feather-light kiss to her shoulder. "When your memory returns, you'll remember why they don't come off. Everything will become clear once again, my Belle."

          She rested her head back against his shoulder and sighed her contentment. "I love the way you say my name. The way you always say  _my_ before my name. Does that mean I can call you  _my_  Nicholas?" she asked, fighting off a yawn.

          He made her sit up so he could get off the bed and pull back the covers. "I told you, dear one. You can call me anything you like." He made her get under the warm blankets and then added a quilt to the top, so she would stay warm.

          Belle caught his hand as he turned to return to his own room. "Stay with me … please? I've been alone for so long. Please stay with me at least until I fall asleep," she said, her eyes pleading with him.

          Gold hesitantly crawled under the covers with her and laid back against the pillows. He would keep his hands to himself no matter how difficult. He would not take advantage of his injured wife, his beloved, his Belle. He  _would_  behave. Of course, Belle would have none of that. As soon as it appeared he was settled in, she took his arm and wrapped it around her waist, rested her head against his shoulder and threw her leg over both of his. She was asleep in moments, a blissful happy smile on her lips. He raked a hand through his hair and tried to relax, knowing it was going to be a long night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I hope you like it. I thought it was sweet. Thank you all so much for the lovely reviews. They were so awesome!


	33. Chapter 33

_"You're not supposed to be out here, dearie," he hissed into her ear as his arms slipped about her waist and jerked her back against his chest._

_She was in the orchard next to the front walls of the castle. She knew she'd disobeyed. "W-What are you going to do to me?" she asked, breathless, but not with fear. It was something else, something she didn't recognize in her innocence._

_His lips were feather-light, the softest caress against her skin as they trailed from her shoulder to her neck. "I must punish you, pet. How should I torture you, hmm? You are so beautiful, and I wouldn't want to mar your lovely skin." His teeth grazed the tender flesh beneath her ear before his tongue gently soothed it, sending goosebumps erupting along her arms and heat coiling in her belly. "Why must you torment me so?"_

_"I-I don't know," she stammered, her hand reaching up to tangle in his hair._

_"You can end it, my siren. You can end it right now," he whispered, his breath teasing the tendrils at her ear which had escaped the pins._

_"I don't know how. Tell me."_

_"You said you loved me."_

_"I do."_

_"Say my name, Belle."_

_"I don't know your name. I don't know who you are," she whispered desperately._

_"Yes, you do, love. Say my name."_

_"Rum …"_

          Belle's eyes flew open, her breath coming in little pants and she tried to focus her eyes in the gloom. It took her a moment to remember where she was, and the realization brought a faint smile to her face. She stretched out her hands, feeling the coolness of the sheets and the absence of her husband. She glanced up at the digital clock on the nightstand next to the bed. Two fifteen a.m. She sighed, wishing she could have slept through the night, convinced she would have slept better if he had still been beside her, snuggled deep under the mountain of blankets.

          She sat up and pulled the fuzzy socks from her feet, so she could curl her toes into the thick plush rug which covered most of the hardwood floor of her bedroom. The door had been left open, so he could hear her if she called for him during the night, his own door cracked open for the same reason, a faint glow falling through the door into the hall to light her way.

          A frown puckered her brow as she stood and walked slowly to the open door. Had he gone back to his room? If he hadn't, where would she find him in the house? Having no memories of their life, their home, was a great deterrent to her at the moment and she didn't feel like exploring in the dark. She couldn't remember anything about this man who was her husband, but she couldn't deny she was drawn to him. From the first moment she had touched him, it had been as though she knew she could trust him. It was by his own insistence she believed she was his wife and she had no reason to doubt him.

          Nicholas had been an open book to her, and she liked what she'd read. It was her need to touch him, to be close to him which baffled her, but she felt so at peace when she was in his arms. He loved her, of that she was certain. His feelings were there in his eyes, his touch, the protectiveness he displayed. She wondered if she had loved him as well, but she pushed that thought away. The way she felt when she was with him was so strong, she knew she must have loved him, too.

          She shook her head at the confusion which blanketed her and crossed the hall, pushing the door open and letting her eyes adjust to the faint light coming through the blinds on the window. He was lying on the right side of the bed, the blanket shoved down about his hips. He was on his side, his left knee slightly bent, facing away from the door. The coldness which lingered with her sent a shiver down her spine, and she looked at the blankets longingly, but more at the man lying there snoring softly.  

          Hesitating only a moment, she moved on silent feet to the side of the bed and crawled in, gently so as not to wake him. She pulled the blankets up to her neck and proceeded to mold herself to his back, fitting seamlessly to his form. She snaked her hand around his waist, slipping it beneath his t-shirt and trailing her fingertips across his warm skin, not stopping until her hand came to rest over his heart. She smiled as she pressed her face into the space between his shoulders, her toes curling as she rubbed her foot against his arch. It didn't take long for her to find sleep once more.

 

*.*.*

 

          Gold felt her as soon as her consciousness snapped back to awareness. It had taken the utmost concentration to remain immobile and listen to her movements. He could practically picture her curling her toes into the rug by her bed. He shuddered. The very erotic picture of her delicate toes curling in the carpet causing him to bite back a moan. She used to do that in the Great Hall of the Dark Castle after a long day on her feet. He could remember the look of absolute bliss on her face as she would sit in her chair before the hearth as those toes continued to curl.

          He wet his suddenly dry lips and forced his breathing into a more sedate rhythm. This was going to kill him. To distract himself, he wondered if she’d had another dream of their old life together. If she would only remember. He heard her soft steps as she crossed the hall and slipped into his room.

          Gold knew what was coming. As much as she seemed to crave his closeness, he wanted hers even more. Briefly, he wondered if the blood bond and his own desire had called her to him. If magic existed in this land, he would be convinced it had been the bond. He stiffened as he felt her climb into bed and pull the blankets over herself.

          His breath caught in his chest as she molded herself about him, sliding her hand over his flesh under his shirt. But his heart nearly stopped when she began rubbing her curled toes over the arch of his foot. It reminded him of a cat seeking to have its ears scratched. She'd begun doing that after she'd moved into his bedroom, before they'd been married, another of her little quirks. He didn't know why she did it, he just knew he liked it. It was uniquely Belle.

          She was as close as she could be to him without actually sharing his skin, and he could feel her smile against his shoulder. He had tried to do the honorable thing and give her some space, not pressing her for anything which would make her uncomfortable. He wanted her to have time to regain her memories, to remember who they had been together. And as much as he wanted that, he was coming to the realization he would woo and coax her with his last breath to have her back. It was still Belle. She was in there somewhere and he would find her again.

          He waited until her breathing was deep and even, before he rolled over and gathered her into his embrace, her head tucked under his chin. He held her, one arm around her shoulders, the other tight about her waist as if she would disappear if he closed his eyes. She was finally safe once again in his arms. He would have to take steps to make sure Regina wouldn't try to take her from him again. He longed for Belle's memory to return so he could get the full story of her captivity. But he forced himself to push all thoughts aside and just appreciate the bundle in his arms as he sought slumber.

 

*.*.*

          The cell phone vibrated on his nightstand and began to ring shrilly. Groggily, he reached over Belle, smashing her slightly as he ripped it off the charger and pressed the call button. The caller ID read 'Hatter' - he'd changed the title yesterday in a fit of pique. "What?" he growled, stifling a yawn.

          "You up?" Jefferson asked cheerily.

          Gold glanced down at Belle to see her still sleeping peacefully. "I am now. What do you want?"

          "I'm stopping at Granny's before I head to your house. Want breakfast?"

          "Two super specials. Belle's underweight and she needs food. _Lots_ of food," he grumbled, watching her sleep and trailing his hand over her hip and back up to her shoulder. "And see if that old harridan will include some high fat chocolate milk. I think Belle would enjoy that."

          "If not, I'll stop at the grocery store and pick some up. Anything else, Rum?"

          "No. Thanks, Jefferson." He rang off and scrolled through his contacts to find Dove's number. The man answered on the second ring. "Dove, I need you to go to the grocery store. My usual list. Yes, the big one. My house is empty. I also want you to go by the health food store and see if you can't find some type of protein shake for my wife."

          He watched Belle sleep for several more moments before making up his mind to call Archie Hopper. The doctor had expressed a wish to see her today, and Gold - in his impatience - was more than ready to proceed. It could only help her to see the doctor. Once again, he scrolled through his contacts until he found the right number.

          "H-Hello," was the timid doctor's answer as the call connected.

          "Hopper, Belle will be available this afternoon at precisely two o'clock," Gold said matter-of-factly. He couldn't have cared less what the doctor's schedule was, he only cared about his wife's mental health.

          "Ah, Mr. Gold, l-let me check my —"

          "That wasn't a request, Hopper." He rang off and set the cell phone back on the nightstand. He snuggled deeper into the blankets, figuring he had maybe thirty minutes more with his wife before Jefferson arrived with breakfast. His muscles seized as he felt her hand sneak under his shirt at the same time her face nuzzled against his neck. His arms tightened around her and his eyes rolled back in his head.  _God's painted toenails! This little slip of a girl is going to be the very death of me. No dagger needed!_  She wrapped her leg around his and he groaned.  _A very lovely little slip of woman she was, too!_  he giggled inwardly.

          "Good morning, Nicholas," she purred against his throat.

          He couldn't speak for a moment. There were too many sensations battling within him in the great war against his self-control. He tugged gently on her hair, forcing her head back to look at him. "Um …" he said as he gazed into her heavily-lidded aqua eyes. He cleared his throat. "Good morning, dearest. Care to explain yourself?" he asked, giving her a half grin.

          "You left me," she accused, her teeth worrying her lower lip.

 _Does she have to do that?!_  If it was his true Belle, he would know she was doing it on purpose just to tempt him. Nevertheless, it sent heat spiraling throughout him. "I, uh, just thought to give you some privacy … some space to become adjusted."

          She smiled softly. "I don't want space, Nicholas. I need to be with  _you_. For as long as I can remember, I was so alone. And it's not as though I could accept comfort from anyone. I wasn't drawn to Jefferson. Deep down I  _know_ you. I  _feel_  you on a deeper level and I have to be close to you. Am I making sense?" she asked, lowering her eyes in embarrassment.

          He tipped her chin back up to meet his gaze. It seemed she hadn't lost any of her brutal honesty either. If she thought it or felt it, it came out of her mouth, straight-forward and to the point. "Yes, sweetheart. You make perfect sense because I feel the same as you do. Am I to take it you don't want to sleep in separate beds?" he asked, tracing the curve of her face with a lone finger.

          "Do you mind terribly? Just to sleep …" she rushed to add.

 _Hell no!_  "If that is what you wish," he answered simply. She couldn't know the wicked thoughts cartwheeling through his mind at the thought of her in his bed, limbs entwined with his, her warm breath against his ear as she slept.

          She sat up, smiling brightly, the first really happy smile he'd seen since before she'd been abducted, and surely the first since she'd come home last night. "Thank you. Now who were you terrorizing on the phone?"

          A smirk curved his mouth. "Dr. Hopper. I told him to be here at two for your session. Does that meet with your approval?" he asked, suddenly concerned he hadn't asked her if she felt up to it or not.

          "Yes. I want to remember who I am, and the sooner we get started, the better."

          Gold opened his mouth to respond and shut it quickly as the phone chirped, alerting him to a text message. He saw he had a message from Jefferson along with an attached video. Belle leaned her head against his shoulder, curious as always. He opened the attachment first, the video playing. Soon he was laughing at the scene playing out on the small screen.

          The video showed the newest addition to Storybrooke, the lovely Miss Emma Swan, taking a chainsaw to Regina's prized apple tree. Regina was stalking angrily across the lawn snapping at Emma. He couldn't make out what they were saying to each other because of Jefferson's hysterical laughter in the background. The video ended just as Emma tossed the chainsaw at Regina's feet and walked away with a smug smile.

          The message which accompanied the video read:  _Is this our new savior, Nick? I want her!_

          Gold quickly replied,  _Go get her!_

          "What was that all about?" Belle asked, an amused smile resting on her rosebud mouth.

          He rolled away from her and got out of bed, pulling a robe on and picking up his cane to retrieve one for Belle to wear as well. He would have to add that to their list of things she would need. They left the room to go downstairs and wait for Jefferson. Gold filled the kettle and dropped tea leaves into the porcelain pot before answering. "It seems Regina has made a new enemy."

          Belle smiled with satisfaction. "I'd like to meet this Miss Swan. Any enemy of Regina's is definitely a friend of mine," she replied tartly.

          Gold dropped a quick kiss to her brow and grinned down at her. "Indeed, my love."

 

*.*.*

 

          Jefferson was still laughing over the scene which had transpired between Regina and their lovely savior when he used the spare key and let himself into Gold's house. He walked down the hall to the kitchen and set the bags down on the island where his friends were already seated, enjoying their morning tea. Belle scooted her stool closer to her husband, eyeing the man hesitantly. Jefferson noticed, his smile slipping.

          "Something the matter, my girl?" he asked softly, his smile sad.

          "N-No, why do you ask?" She twined her fingers with Gold's and smiled hesitantly at Jefferson. Even though he'd been her savior from her imprisonment, she was having trouble trusting him. It might have had something to do with the hospital uniform he wore, bringing back the recent memories of her captivity. If Nicholas trusted him, she would have to find a way to trust him as well, though it might take time.

          "I assure you … You have nothing to fear from me." He turned to Gold. "Gods! I can't wait until she gets her memory back." He moved to the cupboard and pulled down plates and silverware and began unpacking the bags, heaping generous portions onto the china. He'd brought eggs, sausage, bacon, ham, pancakes, muffins, toast, and hash browns. Belle's eyes widened incredulously at the spread before her.

          "Nicholas, I can't possibly eat all of this," she protested as Jefferson pushed a plate in front of her.

          "Eat what you can, love. But I want you to drink all of this," he said, pouring a large glass of chocolate milk and handing it to her. "Dove is going to pick up some protein shakes from the health store which will help bring back some of your weight. I should have told him to purchase some vitamins as well." He pulled his cellphone from the pocket of his robe and sent a text. "There."

          She hesitantly sipped the milk and smiled. "Oh, I like this, but I can't ever recall having it before."

          Jefferson and Gold shared a glance. "You'll find there's a good many things you haven't tried before. But as we go, we can discover your likes and dislikes and shop accordingly," Gold smiled, brushing a lock of her hair behind her ear and letting his fingers trail along her jaw. He turned his attention back to Jefferson, but not before he saw the blush rushing to flood her face. It seemed he wasn't the only one affected by their closeness. "What were you doing at Regina's this morning, besides playing the role of paparazzi?"

          Jefferson gulped down his orange juice and pushed his empty plate aside. "She's trying to have me fired from the hospital. She's convinced I was responsible for bringing Belle to your attention."

          Gold nibbled thoughtfully on a piece of bacon as he watched Belle work her way through the food on her plate. "I'll talk to the Chief of Staff. Dr. Howard owes me a favor. You don't have to worry about your job, and I'll see about getting you back on the day shift, so you can spend more time with Paige." Jefferson opened his mouth to correct him when it clicked. Belle couldn't know yet about Grace's alter ego.

          "Much thanks, Nick. So, what's the story with the lovely Miss Swan?" he asked, a dreamy smile upon his lips. "Besides the fact she's drop-dead gorgeous?"

          Belle's fork clattered to her plate as she pressed her fingertips deep into her temples, the sudden pain jarring her. She could see an image of herself and Jefferson sitting closely on a garden bench.

_"Have you figured it out yet, sweetheart?" he asked gently. "You desire him. You want him. You might even find yourself loving him … just a wee bit? If he had held you as I did a moment ago, would you have let him kiss you?"_

          How did he know of her dream lover? How could he have been there? It wasn't real, she told herself adamantly. It couldn't be real. If it was, then she was betraying her lover with the strong feelings she had for Nicholas. Maybe she  _was_ crazy, but she couldn't make the pieces fit. Why couldn't she remember? She looked up at Jefferson as he took her hand and slipped some Advil into her palm.

          "Take these, sweetling. They'll help the headache," he said gently, handing her a glass of water.

          Gold was rubbing soothing circles along her back as she took the pills and sighed. "Are you alright, Belle? Did you remember something?"

          She shook her head and tried to smile, although it came out as more of a grimace. "Stop worrying, Nicholas. I'll be fine." How was she supposed to tell him now she was dreaming while she was wide awake? She was  _not_  going back to the hospital. She was distracted by the honking in the driveway.

          "That must be Dove," Gold announced, giving a pointed look to Jefferson.

          "I'll go see if he needs help," Jefferson said and left the kitchen.

          Gold slipped off the stool and faced her, cupping her face in his hands, his thumbs rubbing gently along her cheeks. "Tell me what's wrong," he insisted. He'd known her too long to let her lie to him. She had never been able to hide anything from him. "You can tell me anything, Belle. Don't be afraid," he said gently.

          Still she hesitated. How could he make it so easy for her to trust him? "I had a flash, like from my dreams. I was talking to Jefferson about … something, and I guess it just took me by surprise," she told him, her voice coming out in a casual tone, trying to make it seem like it meant nothing to her.

          Hope flared in Gold's chest as he watched her carefully, watched for that familiar spark to light her eyes. He smiled gently down into her jewel-bright eyes. "Now was that so hard? Don't be afraid to talk to me, Belle."

          Her hands twisted in the fabric of his robe as she pulled him to her. She rested her head on his chest and slipped her arms around his waist. "I'm so happy you found me, Nicholas. I feel so safe with you, like you would slay a dragon to protect me."

          Gold rested his head atop her hair and closed his eyes, savoring the feeling of having her in his arms. "Oh, dearest. If you only knew."

 

*.*.*

 

          "Oh, Nicholas, this is just awful," Belle gasped, her nose scrunched up in distaste as she shoved the glass full of protein shake at her husband.

          "I'm sure it can't be as bad as all that."

          "It's horrible. Have you tasted it?"

          "Of course not, no."

          "Taste it," she insisted.

          He looked down warily at the brownish liquid in the glass. The color was reminiscent of chocolate milk. She had liked the chocolate milk she'd had at breakfast. He wasn't willing to chance it. "No."

          She stubbornly crossed her arms over her chest. "Try it."

          "I don't want to."

          "If you're not willing to taste it, then I don't have to drink it either."

          "But, Belle, it will help make you stronger. You need it," he persisted, trying to sway her to his point of view.

          She simply raised her stubborn chin and gave him a very pointed look. He knew that look well. It meant she wasn't budging until he did as she asked. Apparently, her bossiness was ingrained in her character and had nothing whatsoever to do with her memory. "Fine," he said with a weary sigh. He continued to stare into the glass for several moments, hesitating.

          Belle tapped her sock-clad foot impatiently. "Quit stalling, Nicholas."

          He fervently swore to himself one day soon he was going to find the strength to tell her no. He lifted the glass to his lips and sipped gingerly at the mixture … which he then immediately spit out into the sink, his eyes screwed shut as the flavor continued to haunt him. "That is bloody disgusting ... and chalky."

          Belle cast him a satisfied smirk and took the glass from him, moving to dump it in the sink. He caught her hand. "Maybe if we added some sugar or honey?" he asked hopefully.

          "You're joking, right?" she asked dryly.

          "If you didn't need it, I wouldn't be insisting."

          "Are we having our first argument?"

          "I believe so, love," he admitted with a sheepish grin as she moved closer and pressed her lips against his jaw. While he was distracted, she poured the viscous mixture down the sink.

          "Nicholas …"

          "Yes, love?" he breathed, a shiver of delight tripping along his spine.

          "I win."

          She smiled sweetly and left him standing there gaping at her retreating back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I know this wasn't much of a chapter. I promise to get back on track in the next chapter. Here's what's coming up: Belle's going to continue to get flashes of memory, she has her first session with Archie, trick or treating yeah, I know, I'm behind, but it’s funny, and several other things. Give me a break, I don't want you to know too much, it'll spoil the surprise. I want to thank you all for the lovely reviews.


	34. Chapter 34

          "I spoke to Doctors Howard and Bryan. Your job is not in jeopardy no matter what trouble Regina may try to bring about," Gold told Jefferson. He was sitting in the kitchen, staring across the hall at the closed door to his study where Belle was having her session with Archie Hopper. She had wanted him to be there, sitting in to hear what was said, but Hopper had protested. He didn't want Belle to withhold information in front of her husband she might otherwise divulge if she were alone. His hands tightened painfully on the handle of his cane. He turned his attention back to Jefferson. "You now have a three-day weekend and the pleasure of purchasing an iPhone for Belle."

          "I beg your pardon, Mr. I-own-the-entire-town-and-can-afford-to-buy-Paris?" Jefferson asked dubiously.

          "Are you denying you owe me a favor? Several favors at that?" Gold asked, his brow raised in question. “I’m dealing with enough without having to spend the entire bloody day at that blasted store!”

          “Those idiots are luckier than they know.”

          “Why’s that?” Gold huffed.

          “It would’ve been way worse if you’d had your magic.”

          Jefferson rolled his eyes and shoved his hands into his pockets, his lips pursed into a pout when his friend didn’t respond to his ribbing. "Fine. How many does that make?" he asked. Gold shook his head and turned his eyes back to study the door. "Stop worrying, Rum. I'm sure she's alright."

          Gold sighed in frustration. "What if she tells him something about these dreams she's having, and Hopper wants to readmit her for observation or re-evaluation? You and I know it's her suppressed memories tormenting her through her sleep, but the good doctor does not." He rose hurriedly to his feet, a sharp pain shooting through his bad leg. He ignored the ache as his gaze settled on Belle's smiling face. He took a deep breath and felt the tightness in his chest disperse.

          Archie stepped out of Gold's study, leaving the door open. "Mr. Gold, might I have a q-quick word?"

          Belle stopped and dropped a kiss to his cheek as he passed her in the hall. "I'll go make tea."

          He was tempted to follow her back into the kitchen, his skin tingling from the contact with her lips and had half-turned when Archie cleared his throat, bringing Gold back to the present. Jefferson snickered.

          Gold proceeded into his study and moved to sit behind his desk, assuming his position of power, waiting for the doctor to begin. Archie fumbled with his notepad and took a seat in front of the mahogany desk, pulling nervously on his collar.

          "Belle … uh … M-Mrs. Gold seems to be doing very well. She expressed happiness to be home once again. She's alert, she's bright. Mr. G-Gold, I don't understand why she was committed in the first place," Archie said, shaking his head.

          Gold leaned forward in his chair and faced Archie, his voice cold. "We can thank our illustrious Madame Mayor and Belle's dim-witted father for that, Hopper. There is nothing wrong with my wife aside from her memory loss, which I am confident will correct itself in time. This was done to hurt  _me_ , Hopper. Belle just got caught up in it," he explained, grinding his teeth as his rage at Regina bubbled to the surface.

          Archie shifted in agitation under Gold's intense stare. "The only concern I have is Mrs. Gold's dreams. She says they wake her several times a night and are recurring." He cleared his throat again and glanced down at his notes.

          "Did she go into detail?"

          "No, no, she didn't. She simply mentioned them in passing when I asked if she was resting. Do you happen to know what they are about?"

          Gold's eyes glittered as they narrowed on the doctor. "If you had been wrongfully imprisoned, I'm certain you would have nightmares as well, Hopper. Now, is there anything else you need to know?"

          Archie put his pad and pen away in his bag. "No, but if she exhibits any strange behavior, I ask that you notify me. I also would like to see her next week at my office … if that's acceptable. She didn't seem opposed to further sessions."

          Gold rose from his chair to show Archie out, anxious to ask Belle how her session had gone. He didn't really care what Hopper thought. Hers was the only opinion with which he was concerned. She was setting out the tea service on the island in the kitchen when he emerged from the study. Her smile was bright and warm as her eyes met his across the hall, beckoning him to her. She didn't look as though she'd spent the last twenty-eight years in a cell and for that he was more than grateful.

          Her hair was loose and flowing over her shoulders, the dark chestnut locks falling down her back. She was wearing the blue jeans Jefferson had purchased for her as well as a royal blue tank top. He had to grin at her. She had pilfered one of his black dress shirts from his closet to wear unbuttoned over the tank. He was so enraptured with her; it took him a moment to realize she had spoken to the doctor.

          "Archie, are you certain you won't stay for tea?" she asked sweetly.

          "No, Belle, I really have to get back for my next appointment. B-But thank you. Maybe next time," Archie said and let Jefferson show him to the door.

          Gold came to stand at her side and she wrapped her arm around his waist as she sipped her tea. "Everything alright, Nicholas?"

          "No. Come with me," he said, giving her a half-smile full of mischief and taking her hand to lead her down the hall.

          "Where are we going?" she asked, her rosebud mouth pulling into a pout. "Our tea is going to grow cold."

          "We'll make more, dearest." He drew her down the hall to a set of double doors of the same dark rich wood pervading the rest of the house. He pulled a key ring from his pocket holding one key and a small charm in the shape of a teacup and placed it in her palm. "Since you don't like your bedroom, I thought you might like this room better. Go on, open it," he urged, his tone warm and husky as he imagined the joy she would receive at his gift.

          Belle played with the teacup charm, her brow furrowed. Hesitantly, she met Gold's gaze. "Nicholas, what is this all about?" she asked, her teeth worrying her lower lip. "Did you change your mind about sharing your room with me?"

          "Of course not, no. I'm thrilled you wish to share it with me." He smoothed a lock of hair behind her ear and took the key from her, fitting it in the lock. "We, my dear, are making a memory. We're not trying to replace your old memories, but I thought we could perhaps make a new one."

          The room was dark as he led her forward to the center and warned her to remain still and to close her eyes. She could feel the light from the window as he pulled back the heavy drapes. "Can I open my eyes, now?"

          "Not yet." He continued to make his way around the room, throwing the drapes open on the two remaining windows. He returned to her side and slipped his arm around her waist, leaning close to her ear and whispering, "Alright, Belle. Open your eyes."

          Belle covered her mouth with her hands, her eyes wide and filled with awe. It was her library, extending over two floors. Gold had written her sanctuary into the curse. Why not? If Regina could bring over her vault, why couldn't he bring over Belle's library from their home?

          It went straight up from the first floor and all the way to the ceiling of the second. She could enter it from either floor, depending on where she was at the time she decided she needed a book. Against one wall was a great stone fireplace, the mantel littered with trinkets, his chipped cup placed in the very center. She thought it smelled like home, the scent of ink and paper and leather assailing her nose. It was actually bigger than the original library. The main floor contained several wingback chairs, her settee and sofa and Gold's spinning wheel. That caught her interest right away.

          "Nicholas, this is absolutely amazing," she breathed, and she could feel moisture at her eyes. "There's more books here than I could ever read in a lifetime."

          Gold closed his eyes, the memory crowding his mind. Hope flared in his chest at the thought of her memories returning. She'd said those words before in the same circumstances. "You can thank Jefferson and Paige for the new additions, and Paige keeps everything nice and tidy. She comes in once a week to dust and clean to earn her pocket money."

          She was drawn to the spinning wheel, her feet having carried her close, so she could run her hands over the smooth wooden wheel.

_"Why do you spin so much?"_

_"It helps me forget."_

          His hand was at her waist to catch her as the memory hit her, causing her to stumble. "Are you alright, my Belle?"

          She blinked away the confusion and reached up to brush away the hair which had fallen into his eyes. "Fine … uh … do you spend much time in here?" she asked, her gaze drawn back to the antique spinning wheel.

          The wheel spun slowly under her hand, the familiar creak of the motion sounding an echo of the past through the cavernous room. He placed his hand atop hers, continuing the rotation. "No, I haven't. I've always found it too painful to come in here. I've only had it maintained in memory of you. I never believed you were dead, sweetheart. One day I had hoped to have you home, so you could enjoy your library once more," he said, his voice husky with emotion.

          She looped her arms around his neck and tugged on the hair at his nape, burying her face in the crook of his shoulder. "Thank you, Nicholas. But don't be sad. I'm home and nothing is going to take me away from you ever again."

          He didn't know how long he stood there holding her before her curiosity got the better of her and he sent her off to explore. She moved from shelf to shelf, running her fingers lovingly over the spines of her precious books, often picking one up to rifle through the pages. There were all her original books, and numerous new additions in genres which hadn't been available in their realm. He left her alone in the quiet while he built a fire to keep her warm. He had no doubt she would be spending the evening in there. Her tinkling laughter floated down to him from the second floor.

          "What's funny?" he called to her.

          "What is this drivel about vampires that sparkle in the sunlight?" she asked, leaning over the railing so she could look down at him, her eyes twinkling with amusement.

          Gold returned her smile. "Ah, you've found Paige's paranormal books. Who knows, dearest, you might enjoy them," he said fondly, remembering her penchant for reading everything printed on the page. It didn't matter if it was a romance, an adventure, or a historical text. If it was on the printed page, she would read it. At least his magical texts were stored in the basement, well out of her reach. She didn't need to stumble upon those until her memories returned.

          Belle climbed down the ladder with no less than four books and settled onto her settee. "Won't you join me, Nicholas? I could read to you if you like?" she asked hopefully, thinking of nothing more pleasant than to spend the afternoon with him buried in a book.

          "I cannot, love. I need to take care of some business this afternoon." He hated to see the look of disappointment settle on her pale features. Hopefully, he would be able to coax her out of the house in the next few days into some much-needed sunlight. "Do you want me to have Jefferson stay with you?"

          "No. I'll be fine here with my books until you return," she replied, a tinge of sadness as well as resignation in her voice. "You won't be long?" She set her book aside and rose to stand before him, sliding her arms around his waist and pressing her face to his neck, breathing him in.

          He closed his eyes as his arms went around her, reveling in her desire to be close to him. "I will endeavor to conclude my business with all haste." He tipped her chin up to meet his gaze. "I promise no later than eight o'clock, hmm? Don't answer the door except for Jefferson or the delivery person who will bring dinner at seven thirty."

          Belle smiled and watched him walk down the hall to the front door, and smiled as he turned and gazed longingly at her before opening the door. She could see the lines of worry etched on his face and she hated that she was responsible for them. She repeated over and over to herself that she would remember and then he wouldn't have to worry about her so much, that they could be happy again and put Regina's machinations behind them. She wouldn't admit to him it plagued her mind wondering why Regina hated them so much, why she would purposely plot and scheme to destroy their happiness. Without her memories, she didn't know Regina, didn't know what had happened to her to make her such a bitter, vindictive woman. But she had already made her mind up to find out.

          She looked at the clock hanging over the mantel and noticed it was already after four. She'd only have to wait less than four hours for Nicholas to return. Jefferson would no doubt return as well. He'd promised to bring his daughter, Paige, to meet her this evening. So, she wouldn't be alone too long. Settling down on the settee, she pulled a light throw over her legs and settled in with one of the books she'd chosen. No, not long at all.

 

*.*.*

 

_She sat on the small serviceable cot in the darkened chamber, facing the mirror before her, watching the shifting and swirling surface of silver. He was there. She could tell by the tingles marching steadily across her flesh. He was waiting for her. All she had to do was press her hands to the glass._

_"Show me," she commanded, her voice a mere whisper ghosting across the surface like tendrils of mist. "Show me."_

_"You have to be specific, dear. You have to speak his name clearly, so the mirror will show you whom you seek."_

_She whirled around to stare at the magical barrier to her cell, her eyes full of hate, full of fury for the woman standing in the safety of the corridor. Rage roiled inside Belle for her captor, her fingers itching to loose her magic against the fairy. It was she who kept Belle from her love. It was she who was trying in vain to destroy the love she held for her husband._

_"Pity," the fairy said in a honey-sweet voice which sent ice singing through her veins. "His image won't come to you now."_

_Belle turned away, refusing to give in and speak to her, unwilling to show her just how tormented she was by her captivity. "I will remember," she said more to herself, praying her voice wouldn't carry to the barrier and beyond. "I will remember." She pressed her hands to the glass, bringing his image to her mind, concentrating on his features. His lovely warm amber eyes sparkled with mischief, his wide mouth pulled into a half-grin, his brow quirked with amusement._

_The mirror shimmered before her, the image becoming clearer until he appeared before her. A gasp escaped her as she realized it was different this time. He could_ see _her. His hands pressed to the other side of the glass as he reached for her._

_"Come home to me, my Belle. Please come home," he cried, his anguish so very real to her. "I need you, my love."_

_Tears washed over her ashen face as she caressed his cheek through the glass. "I'm here. I-I need you, too. Please find me."_

_"All you have to do is say my name. Say my name, Belle."_

_"I can't. I don't remember."_

_"Say his name, girl," the fairy hissed._

_An image of the queen took the place of her husband in the mirror, her laugh the very thing children ran from, the same sound which turned dreams into nightmares. "Say his name, you foolish girl, and end your torment. Go home and find he doesn't want you anymore."_

_"It's your fault. He will destroy you when he learns the truth," Belle screamed. "He will destroy both of you."_

_"Say it!"_

          Her hip hit the floor hard as she rolled off the settee, her book sliding under the coffee table. Her ears were ringing, and her head was fuzzy as she tried to regain her bearings. She shook her head, trying to clear it of the ringing only to realize it was the phone on the wall in the kitchen. She staggered to her feet and reached it just as the answering machine picked up and Jefferson's voice filled the room.

_Nick, why aren't you answering your phone? I've called your cell, the shop, and now the house. What the hell? I'm going to swing by the shop before heading to your house._

          Belle wrung her hands, searching through the dimness of the darkened house, the only light coming from the fixture in the foyer and the bulb over the stove. She fumbled on the wall for the switch, squinting at the bright fluorescent. How long had she been asleep? She found the clock on the far wall. Seven twenty. Their dinner should be there soon, and Nicholas wouldn't be much longer after that. But she didn't like the worry she'd heard in Jefferson's voice. Maybe Nicholas had been so busy with his work, he just hadn’t felt like being bothered by the phone. Her teeth worried her lip in indecision, her hand hovering over the phone receiver.

          Making up her mind, she picked up the receiver, her eyes going to the dry erase board where Nicholas had written the numbers for his shop phone as well as his cell, along with Jefferson's contact numbers. He hadn't wanted to leave her with no way to get in touch with him. She dialed the shop and received no answer, the same with his cell. Her heartbeat was beginning to rapidly beat against her ribs, knowing he should have answered at least one of the phones. She pushed her panic aside and dialed Jefferson. It went to voicemail asking her to leave a message. She stared at the offending receiver in her hand and hung up only to dial again. He picked up on the third ring.

          "Belle, I can't talk right now," he said, his breathing labored.

          "What's happened to my husband," she asked, cold sweat beading on her brow, a sense of foreboding curdling her blood.

          "I'll have him home in ten minutes, sweetheart. Get the first aid kit from Nick's study. Bottom drawer of the desk. And get a small towel and a bowl of milk ready for when I get there," he ordered. She could hear a car door slam and running footsteps.

          "Jefferson, tell me what's wrong with him!" she shrieked into the receiver.

          She could hear scuffling and shouting as Gold wrestled the phone away from Jefferson. "Belle, love, I'm fine," he lied.

          "You're lying. What happened?" She could hear the words as though he were grinding his teeth together.

          He  _was_  grinding his teeth together, but trying to remain calm through the pain so as not to alarm her. "We'll be there soon." He hung up.

          Belle stared at the receiver in disgust, irritated he'd had the nerve to hang up on her. She slammed the receiver back into the cradle and went to fetch the first aid kit and the other items Jefferson had asked for. She couldn't imagine what he wanted with the milk, but she set it beside the first aid kit on the coffee table in the library and hurried down the hall to the foyer in time to hear the doorbell ring.

          It was the delivery person with the Chinese food Nicholas had ordered. He handed her the food and left, saying it had already been paid for. Jefferson pulled into the driveway as she returned to the foyer and rushed out to the car, uncaring that her socks were soaking up the dampness in the grass.

          Belle gasped as Jefferson helped Gold from the car, his face red and irritated, a nasty cut on his left temple. Paige climbed from the backseat, tears tracking down her pale cheeks. "Don't touch him," Jefferson said, stopping her from reaching out to Gold. "He's been pepper sprayed."

          She felt anger uncoil in her belly as she watched Jefferson lead Gold into the house. Paige's hands twisted viciously on Gold's cane as she carried it into the house. "Bring him into the library and put him on the settee, Jefferson. I have everything ready in there," she said, passing them in the hall to survey her efforts and make certain she hadn't forgotten anything.

          Gold collapsed onto the settee with a groan, reaching for Belle but unable to open his eyes. She pressed him back, placing a small pillow behind his head. "Sweetheart, I'm sorry to come home to you like this."

          Belle pulled on a pair of latex gloves she found in the first aid kit. "Hush, Nicholas. It's not your fault." She turned to Jefferson. "What do I do for him?"

          "The large bottle there," he said, pointing. "Saline. You need to wash his eyes out with the saline," he instructed.

          Paige handed her a hand towel she'd fetched from the bathroom and Belle set to work. Gold yowled as the cold saline came in contact with his inflamed eyes. "Shh, love, I'm sorry. I'm sorry," she crooned softly as she worked. Ever so gently, she cleansed his eyes and then drenched a large piece of gauze with the saline to remove any traces of the spray from his face.

          "Dip the towel in the milk and lay it over his eyes. It will take out most of the burning, but he's going to be hurting for a while," Jefferson told her, propping himself on the arm of the settee to watch her carefully.

          She followed his instructions and smoothed Gold's hair away from the cut on his temple. It wasn't bad and didn't need attention as it had already stopped bleeding. "Nicholas, what happened? Did someone try to rob the shop?"

          His lips curled back from his teeth in a snarl, which wasn't intimidating at all with the cloth laying over his eyes. But she knew he was trying. "Yes, I was on my way home and I realized I had forgotten a file on my desk. I went back inside to find Miss Boyd trying to break into my safe."

          "What?!"

          "Ashley did this?" Paige asked in horror.

          "Oh, she is so fired!" Jefferson hissed.

          "She was after her contract. Spouting nonsense about changing her life," Gold muttered ruefully.

          "Nicholas, did you call the sheriff?" Belle asked, removing the cloth from his eyes and stripping the gloves from her hands.

          "No, dearest. I am thinking about having a chat with Miss Swan in the morning about pursuing an alternative course of action," he stated evasively.

          "I'm not going to like this, am I?"

          "Probably not."

          Belle smiled softly, not wishing to pursue the issue when he was looking up at her through red-rimmed, blood-shot eyes. Paige mumbled something about serving dinner before it got cold and Jefferson cleared his throat. "Alright, you two. Enough of that. Let's eat." He lifted himself from the arm of the small sofa and followed his daughter, knowing it was pointless to try to have a conversation with the Golds when they got that look and had eyes only for one another. Some things never changed, even without memories, apparently.

          She carded her hands through his hair, her nails scraping gently across his scalp. "Why would anyone want to hurt you?"

          Gold snorted. "I'm not very well liked, love. A better question would be why  _wouldn't_  someone want to hurt me."

          Her fingers worked at the knot of his tie, freeing it and pulling it away from his collar, her fingers brushing gently against his throat. "You took care of me last night when you rescued me and brought me home. Tonight, I get to return the favor," she purred as she pressed her brow to his.

          Gold smiled for the first time since the beginning of his ordeal. "I'm a lucky man, my Belle."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. Belle's inching closer to her memory. Gold is going to pay a visit to Emma. Jefferson is going to take Paige and Henry trick or treating. And some other stuff. We still have a ways to go! Yeahyuh! So happy with all the reviews. I love to hear what you all think. Thanks so much for sticking me, even through the slow chapters. Love you all! xoxo


	35. Chapter 35

          "Nicholas Gold, why is this door locked?" Belle asked, rattling the doorknob with one hand while holding an ice pack in the other.

          "Because I'm in the tub, dearie!" he shouted through the locked door of the bathroom and sank deeper into the whirlpool tub. His leg felt like it was on fire from his fall in the shop and he just needed a nice long soak. It would help clear his mind for what he had to do tomorrow. It would help him even more to have a few moments away from his lovely wife and her roaming, groping, touching hands. He felt like he was doomed to a permanent erection, and his resolve not to make love to the  _new_  Belle was weakening with every moment.

          Not in his darkest moment would he reject her touch, but he - in some ways - felt like he was cheating on his  _old_  Belle. He wanted to combine the two back into his wife, the woman he'd taken to bed on his wedding night. Right now, she was a blank slate with an overwhelming need to be close to him, and he hoped that selfsame need would help to bring her memory back. But in the meantime, there was a very definite chance of him losing his sanity.

          Gold's eye twitched, the hairs stood up on the back of his neck and his brow drew together in a frown. What was that noise? He removed the milk-soaked towel from his irritated eyes and stared blurrily at the door in time to see it swing open. His traitorous godchild smiled brilliantly at Belle and flounced away with a smile, calling over her shoulder. "Anytime, Aunt Belle."

          Gold glared at his troublesome wife. "You had her pick the lock."

          Belle shrugged noncommittally. "She offered. It's quite a handy skill for a ten-year-old girl. I really must get her to teach me," she grinned. His wife took the towel from him and tossed it in the sink, replacing it with an ice pack to his eyes. "There. Jefferson said you should leave it on for no longer than eight minutes and then take it off for ten. It should help the swelling."

          "Belle, love, please. Can't I just have twenty … thirty minutes alone to have a bath?" he asked, knowing it was a useless waste of breath in the face of her determination. He sighed resignedly and gave himself over to her tender ministrations.

          He heard a pill bottle rattling seconds before she was shoving a Lortab into his mouth. Apparently, she had been serious when she'd said she would take care of him this evening. He peeked from behind the ice pack and took the glass of water she offered to swallow the pain medicine. "Thank you, dearest."

          She retrieved the glass and dropped a kiss to his wounded temple. "How's your leg?"

          "Sore but manageable," he said dismissively. "Are Jefferson and Paige still here?"

          "No, they were on their way out when Paige offered to open the door for me. They were going to head out after she was done. She said something about dropping by tomorrow for trick-or-treat," she replied, sitting on the rug next to the tub and leaning her head against Gold's arm resting on the rim.

          "Wonderful," he groaned. "I'd forgotten about that infernal holiday. Love, please remind me to call Dove tomorrow and have him pick up some Halloween candy for the little buggers."

          "Nicholas!" she scolded and then ruined the effect by laughing. She removed the ice pack from his eyes and inspected the irritated area. "You look better, at least," she said softly, pressing her lips to each of his closed eyelids. He flipped the hot water on with his toes. "So, tell me. Who is this Ashley person and why was she stealing from you?"

          He flipped the water off and cracked one sable eye open to look at her. "Miss Boyd has a contract with me. She agreed to give up her child, for a considerable amount of money from the child's grandfather. In exchange, I will find the child a good and proper home."

          A startled gasp passed her parted lips. "She sold her baby?"

          "Indeed. But it seems now she has changed her mind," he sighed rather wearily, the stress of the evening weighing heavily upon his shoulders.

          "I think you should have called the police and had the little wretch thrown in jail," she huffed indignantly. She didn't like the fact that her husband had been assaulted because of someone who didn't want to hold up her end of the bargain. She was having a hard time being sympathetic for a woman who would  _sell_  her own child. Nicholas laughed softly. "What's so funny?"

          "You, darling. Always so defensive." He chucked her under her chin. "Even when you can't remember yourself. Don't worry, my Belle, I have a plan to resolve this issue  _without_  involving the police. I doubt seriously Regina's little puppet could handle the job."

 

*.*.*

 

          Gold yawned widely and rested his head against the steering wheel as he sat at the curb trying to gather the strength to get out of the car. He was greatly tempted to go back to his shop and flop face down on the cot he kept in the back room for some much-needed rest. Of course, that was the last thing he could do at the moment. There were many things to do, first of all, securing the savior's aid in retrieving his merchandise.

          He ran a hand down his face and sat back, wondering how many more sleepless nights he would have to endure. Why did this hollow shell of his wife have to be so loving, so warm, so soft in his arms every night as she clung to him in sleep? The dark beast within him roared through his mind, shrieking at him to take her, to bury himself in her soft warmth. They'd been too long apart, and it was taking every ounce of control he possessed to keep the beast caged and contained, but never silent. Now as Belle slumbered next to him, her limbs entwined with his and her dewy breath against his flesh, he was suffering dreams of his nemesis, Regina, taunting him over and over that his precious little wife, his true love, would never be whole again.

          This morning, he'd been awoken by the nightmare before the first rays of dawn. Carefully, he'd disentangled himself from Belle and crept downstairs, feeling guilty for leaving her alone in the big bed, and praying her dreams didn't wake her and send her in search of him. He'd called Dove and woken the man with a list of things to do and the warning that he was to keep an eye on his wife while he was away from home. Hopefully, he would be able to rest after this latest scheme of his was accomplished. Jefferson and Paige should be able to distract her with this Halloween nonsense for him to grab a nap in his study. He yawned again, his jaw popping with the severity of it and got out of the car.

 

*.*.*

 

          Emma opened another box and rifled through the contents, thrilled her things from her apartment in Boston had finally arrived. She tried to ignore Mary Margaret's attempts at conversation this morning, so many things whirling through her sleep-deprived mind. This town was so strange, but then again, her entire life had been one disappointment after another and a little oddity kept it interesting. But to have the child she'd given up for adoption ten years ago come to find her to  _break a curse_? Strange didn't even begin to cover it. Her reverie was cut abysmally short when there came a soft knock upon the door. At eight o'clock in the morning? Really?

          Mary Margaret set two plates on the table containing their breakfast, which was now going to go to waste, and moved to answer the door. She was flooded with nervousness when she took in the intimidating visage of their guest, her eyes sparing a fleeting glance at Emma.

          Gold tried to give Mary Margaret a pleasant smile, if not a warm one. He didn't care, it wasn't the pretty brunette he had come to see. "Miss Blanchard, is Miss Swan here?"

          Mary Margaret's eyes widened as she silently sent Emma a pleading look. Emma rose from her inspection of her belongings and opened the door a little wider to face the pawnbroker.

          Gold lifted his hand to shake hers which she took reluctantly. A chill tripped up her spine. This man set off an uneasiness in her she couldn't explain, though he exuded a confidence with every lilting word which should have put her at ease.  _Uh-uh._  She'd dealt with men like him in her line of work as a bail bondsperson and her defenses rose immediately.

          "Hi. My name is Mr. Gold. We met briefly upon your arrival," he said, still standing in the doorway.

          "I remember," Emma replied, studying him.

          "Good. I have a proposition for you, Miss Swan. I … uh … I need your help. I'm looking for someone," he said hesitantly, knowing he needed to tread lightly with this woman.

          Emma's inner shields quavered with alarm, but her features remained stoically calm. "Really, um …"

          Mary Margaret stared doe-eyed at Emma and the pointed look she was receiving from her roommate until finally it clicked. "You know what? I'm gonna go jump in the bath," she sputtered quickly and scurried into the bathroom, glad to be away from Gold.

          Emma turned her attention back to Gold as he pulled a photograph from his coat. "I have a photo," he told her, stepping into the apartment, tired of waiting for an invitation to enter. He thought it rude to try to have this conversation while standing in the hall where anyone who passed would hear the delicate topic they were discussing. "Her name is Ashley Boyd and she's taken something quite valuable of mine."

          Emma studied the photo, seeing it was taken from a security camera from Gold's shop and closed the door behind her guest. "So why don't you just call the police?"

          "Because, uh …" he sighed impatiently, trying to find the words to win her over to his side. "She's a confused young woman. She's pregnant, alone and scared. I don't want to ruin this young girl's life, but I just want my property returned." He was grateful he'd left Belle at home. She would not approve of this at all. But what she didn't know wouldn't hurt  _him_.

          "And what is it?" Emma asked, her curiosity forcing the words from her mouth.

          Gold smiled slyly. "Well, one of the advantages of you not being the police is discretion. Let's just say it's a precious object and leave it at that."

          Emma's eyes narrowed, the hair on her nape standing on end as she studied him. "When did you see her last?"

          "Last night. That's … that's how I got this," he said, pulling his hair away from his brow to show her the wound on his temple. "It's so unlike her. She was quite wound up, rambling on and on about changing her life. I have no idea what got into her," he explained with a weary sigh, trying to let Emma see he was worried for the girl. He was a master deceiver, after all. "Miss Swan, please just help me find her. My only other choice is the police and I don't think anyone wants to see that baby born in jail, now do they?"

          A shudder ran through Emma as she remembered her time in a Phoenix penal facility and having to give birth to Henry behind bars. She really didn't want to see the same thing happen to the young woman she'd met yesterday. "No, of course not."

          "So, you'll help me then?" Gold asked hopefully.

          Emma sighed, hoping she wasn't getting herself in over her head by agreeing to take this assignment. "I will help  _her_."

          Gold graced her with a half-smile. "Grand."

          The door opened, Henry already calling out to his mother as he barreled into the apartment. "Hey, Emma, I was thinking we …" his voice trailed off when he saw who his mother was talking to.

          Gold smiled affectionately at the boy. "Hey, Henry, how are you? Is your mother going to let you go trick-or-treating with Paige this evening?"

          "Okay, I guess. I'm still working on Mom. For some reason, she doesn't like Paige's dad, but I'm hoping she lets me go. Are you giving out the good stuff again this year?" he asked, his face lighting up.

          Gold winked at him. "Always. Well, give my regards to your mother, and um, good luck, Miss Swan."

          Emma watched him leave before letting out the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding and turned to her son. "Do you know who that is?" he asked, of course he was referring to the book of fairy tales and wondering which character the pawnbroker could possibly be.

          Emma snorted as she stared at the closed door. "Yeah. I have a feeling he's going to be a big pain in my ass."

 

*.*.*

 

          Belle tapped her foot impatiently as she stared out the library windows, a hot cup of tea in her hands, warming the chill which continued to plague her. No matter how many hot showers or blankets or warm clothes, the chill remained. It seemed Nicholas was her only warmth against the cold, only his arms able to chase it away. He was still such a mystery to her, one she was focused on uncovering. But this morning he had been gone when she had awoken, and she'd been fighting off the chills tripping along her flesh for hours.

          Dr. Hopper had suggested the cold she was plagued with might be more psychological than physical. Could it be the long years of imprisonment in the dank, dark cell of the mental ward, the long years where sunlight never touched her skin, had caused a break in her brain which wouldn't allow heat to reach her? Maybe since she saw Nicholas as her savior from that place, only he was capable of giving her comfort and warmth. A headache was forming behind her eyes at the weight of her contemplations. She just wanted to remember her life.

          She wanted to remember her love for this man claiming to be her husband. She wanted to remember when they’d first met, their first date, the first time they’d made love. Yet, still, no matter how hard she concentrated, she couldn't will the memories to return to her. Instead, she was continually haunted by soft amber eyes, gold tinted skin and kisses which made her knees shake beneath her. It was all so confusing to her, especially since she knew her husband was holding back from her. Did he really think he could mask his desire for her, all too evident in his deep sable eyes or the possessive touch of his hands as they held her at night? Why was he holding back from her when her memories might never return?

          The sound of the front door closing sharply banished her thoughts in an instant and couldn't stop the shudder tripping up her spine. Loud noises were still a problem for her, she thought dismally. She thought it might be the gentle giant of a man Gold had set to watch over her in his absence. She didn't like it that he saw her as such a fragile flower. She might be a bit damaged, but she was still strong. She  _would_ get through this. Her heart fluttered as she heard soft footfalls and the subtle tapping of his cane on the hardwood floors and she looked up in time to see him fill the doorway.

          "Hey," he said, a tight smile curving his mouth.

          "Hey." Her face heated with a light blush. She wanted to pull him over to the sofa and curl up on his lap for a couple of hours, letting his warmth comfort her, but she couldn't bring herself to ask him just now. "What's that?" she asked, gesturing to the packages he held.

          Gold groaned inwardly as he watched the afternoon sunlight play along her hair from where it streamed through the window, thinking she was the loveliest woman he'd ever seen. He'd gone to the shop for a while, thinking he could rest for a bit, but thoughts of her had called him home. He couldn't stay away from her. They had been apart for too long, their separation too painful. He set the gift boxes down on the coffee table and grinned sheepishly. "Something for you, dearie."

          She sat down on the settee and pulled the boxes forward to peer inside, a soft smile on her lips. "Oh, Nicholas, this is lovely," she gushed, pulling the sleeveless sapphire sheath dress from the box and holding it to her. The other box contained a pair of simple black pumps. "And shoes. I was wondering when you'd get me something besides these lovely fuzzy socks," she teased.

          "That was Jefferson's fault. When he went shopping for you, he claimed he didn't know what size you wore," he explained. "I thought we could go out for a late lunch … if you'd like?"

          Her hands trembled slightly at the thought of leaving the safety of their home, but his eyes looked so hopeful, she clamped down on her fear and agreed, running upstairs with her new dress to change. Gold wandered into the kitchen and groaned when he took in the amount of candy Dove had purchased for the evening's barrage of trick-or-treaters, a plastic cauldron sitting next to at least four dozen bags. Did they even have that many children in Storybrooke?

          Perhaps the outing combined with the excitement of handing out candy would wear Belle out where she wouldn't stir so much in her sleep. If she did, he was afraid it would be him sleeping behind the locked door of the guest bedroom.

          Belle joined him shortly, looking lovely in the sapphire dress. She'd found a black sweater in one of his dressers and pulled it on over the dress. He was suddenly missing the long dresses she’d worn in their realm, entirely too much exposed flesh for his peace of mind. He ushered her out to the car and drove the short distance to the diner. Unfortunately, his phone rang, quickly putting an end to their lunch plans.

          "Who was it?" she asked as he put the phone away.

          "Belle, love, I've got to go to the hospital. Ashley has gone into labor and I need to see that she sticks to her contract. I'll ask Dove to stay with you until this evening," he said, turning the car around and driving back towards the center of town.

          She chewed her lip nervously. "No, I-I want to go with you, Nicholas," she insisted, her anxiety coloring her voice.

          "Belle, you don't have to. I know how uncomfortable it …" he began, his expression pained, but she cut him off.

          "No, Nicholas, I need to face my fear. I'm tired of being afraid." She reached over and laid her hand on his arm. "Besides, if you're with me, everything should be fine."

          He sighed heavily and nodded. She'd always been stubborn when it came to such matters. Maybe this would be one step closer to helping her resume a normal life. Or as normal as she could come being married to the monster of Storybrooke.

 

*.*.*

 

          They arrived in time to hear the joyous news that Ashley and baby girl were just fine and healthy. Emma was waiting, her eyes shooting daggers at him, Henry sitting in a chair in the waiting room looking absolutely bored. His interest perked up, however, as his eyes landed on Belle, pressed tightly against Gold's side.

          Henry greeted them with a bright smile. "Hi, Mr. Gold. Who's this?" he asked, staring at Belle with interest.

          "Henry, this is Belle, my wife," he told the boy proudly.

          Henry's eyes widened. "Wow, Mr. Gold, I didn't know you were married." He turned to Belle and grinned. "Hi, Mrs. Gold."

          "Belle, this is Henry Mills, Regina's son."

          Belle quirked a brow, wondering who had been brave enough to have a child with Regina. She was going to have to make him explain once they were at home. She recovered from her surprise quickly and shook hands with the boy. "It's nice to meet you, Henry."

          Gold squeezed her hand and nodded toward the row of chairs. "Why don't you sit with Henry for a moment, love? I need to have a few words with Miss Swan."

          "You're married? To  _her_?" Emma asked quietly and in amazement as Belle wandered over to sit with Henry.

          Gold quirked a brow at her in irritation. Belle watched them silently while trying to follow the conversation Henry was trying to start with her.  _So, is this about the contract or something else, Nicholas?_  Her eyes followed the nurse as she wheeled a bassinet past them and entered the glass-walled room behind them. She rose from her seat, sparing a glance for her husband. He wasn't paying attention to her now, too deep in conversation with the pretty blonde. Her curiosity and something else spurred her toward the room where the nurse was handing the baby to a young blonde-haired woman.

          Ashley watched the nurse leave and smiled at the brunette woman as she entered the room. "Hi," she said warily.

          Belle stepped to the side of the bed to look at the little one wrapped in a pink blanket in her mother's arms. "I just love babies. I hope you don't mind."

          Ashley smiled down at her daughter, her unease dissipating as she was taken in by Belle's warm smile. "No, I don't mind."

          "Where is your husband? Shouldn't he be here with you?"

          "Oh, I'm not married. Sean … that's my ex-boyfriend … his father doesn't want him to be with us," Ashley responded a bit sadly.

          Belle could feel her anger towards the girl slowly simmering below the surface. "You used to be Paige Madden's sitter, didn't you?" she asked coolly, still not betraying a thing.

          "Uh … yeah. I won't be able to do that anymore, unless Mr. Madden agrees to let me bring my daughter."

          Belle's smile lowered a notch, unnoticeable, but there nevertheless. "I don't think you'll have to worry about that, Ashley."

          Ashley looked up at Belle and stilled. "H-How did you know my name?"

          Belle dropped all pretense at being nice to the woman, her eyes cold and hard. "Because, dear, Jefferson would never let you care for his daughter after what you did to my husband. You're a thief and you assaulted a disabled man with pepper spray. Tell me, Ashley. What would you do if someone had hurt your Sean … wasn't that his name? Someone you love?" She leaned closer to the bed, her voice low. "I don't take kindly to  _anyone_  hurting someone I care about, Ashley. But you're a smart girl, aren't you? I'm sure it won't happen again."

          Ashley drew back against the pillows, her eyes wide with fear. "You're married to Mr. Gold?" she gasped. "I-I can explain, I …"

          Belle raised a hand, halting the girl. "I don't care about your reasons for what you did, dear. I just want it understood you will keep your distance."

          "Belle," Gold called to her from the door. "What are you doing in here?"

          Belle smiled sweetly at her husband, giving Ashley one last scathing glance before walking to his side. "I was just having a little chat with Ashley, Nicholas. Are you done with your business with Miss Swan?"

          He'd come in as she'd been issuing her subtle threat, pleased yet troubled to hear her warning the girl away from them … _him_. She was still protective of what was hers, and he definitely fell into that category. He led her out to the car and didn't speak until they’d pulled out of the hospital parking lot.

          "What has gotten into you, Belle? You can't just go about threatening people," he scolded.

          Belle snorted. "Jefferson says you do it all the time."

          "That's different."

          "Hypocrite," she huffed indignantly. "I'm sorry, Nicholas, but it just irks me that she's going to get away with assaulting you. There's just something about that girl I don't like. I can't quite put my finger on it, and I can't explain it, but I just don't like her."

          "Don't concern yourself with Miss Boyd. You just need to concentrate on getting better."

          "I will," she promised, feeling contrite and peeking at him from beneath her lashes. "Will she be keeping the baby?"

          Gold smiled with satisfaction. "Yes, she will. I tore up her contract at Miss Swan's insistence."

          "What? Why would you do that?" Belle asked incredulously.

          "Because, sweetheart, Miss Swan wanted to make a deal. Having Miss Swan owe me a favor is much more valuable than Ashley's contract ever was."

 

*.*.*

 

          Gold stood at the front door to his home with a blank expression on his face as he watched Belle greet another group of children in costume. She was thoroughly enjoying herself. The way she had to talk to each child and exclaim fascination over their costumes warmed his heart. He wondered what it would be like to have a child with her, one of their own. They had been so concerned with working towards the grand scheme, the Dark Curse, they hadn't even discussed having children. He thought she'd make a wonderful mother … nothing like his first wife, who had given sole care of Baelfire over to him. That woman hadn't had a lick of motherly instinct in her.

          "Nicholas, you're intimidating the children. Stop scowling," she scolded him gently.

          "I wasn't … honest," he protested.

          "We're going to have a ton of candy left over because of you. Have you ever tried smiling at anyone?" she asked, chuckling softly as he slipped his arms around her waist and pulled her back against him.

          "I smile at you, dearest. Everyone else can go to the devil," he whispered against the shell of her ear. They stood that way for the longest moment, parents leading about their children, stopping occasionally to stare at the pawnbroker, the most hated man in town and the lovely woman in his arms, wondering who she could possibly be and why she was with  _him_.

          Gold was just about to coax Belle back inside and give up on the trick-or-treating children when Henry bounded onto the porch and yelled, "Trick or Treat!"

          Gold raised a brow and stared down at Henry. "People who yell 'trick or treat' are giving me one too many options," he deadpanned, causing Henry to grin broadly. "You would think it was funny, wouldn't you, dear boy?" He thrust the cauldron at the boy and insisted he help himself. "Who picked your costume?"

          Henry scooped up three handfuls of candy and dropped them into his bag. "Jefferson helped me choose. We're all dressed as characters from Alice and Wonderland."

          "All?" Belle asked, taking in Henry's over-large top hat, ascot and long brocade coat. Paige bounded around the corner of the house and waved at Gold.

          "Uncle Nick!" She ran up the steps and gave him a hug. He surreptitiously dropped a gift card into her bag, warning her not to let her father see.

          "You look lovely, Paige," Belle said, embracing her warmly and allowing her to pillage the cauldron.

          "I saw that, Nick," Jefferson huffed with a groan. "Paige, give that card back to him."

          "But, Papa!"

          Gold glared at Jefferson. "If I want to give her a gift, I bloody well will, hatter, and there's little you can do about it."

          "You're spoiling her!"

          "She's  _my_  godchild!"

          "She's  _my_ daughter!"

          Belle stepped between them. "Enough! Jefferson, what are you supposed to be? And is that a tail?"

          Jefferson blushed under the two-tone purple makeup partly covering his face. He wore a pair of leather boots, leather pants, an atrocious two-tone purple striped long-sleeved shirt and a pair of what looked like cat's ears atop his head. "I am supposed to be the Cheshire Cat, my darling Belle," he mumbled irritably.

          Gold took in his appearance which had gone unnoticed during their argument and snickered with glee. "What happened, hatter, no whiskers at the costume shop?"

          "At least I dressed up. Where's your costume, Ru-Nick?" he asked, flinching at the warning look Gold shot him over Belle's shoulder. "Um, you could have gone as your old self. Who wouldn't love that? You could've made an appearance at Regina's Halloween gala and gave her a right old fright."

          A slow smile spread across Gold's face at the mental image those words conjured which he hid against Belle's hair. Now that he would pay good money to see. Indeed, he would.


	36. Chapter 36

          "You would think these people had never seen a woman stroll down the sidewalk with her husband before," Belle huffed in irritation as Gold held the door open for her to precede him into the diner. "Can't we just get something to go and take it back to the shop with us?"

          Gold's brows drew together, frowning at her distress, but knowing it was something she was just going to have to get used to. The stares, the pitying looks for her, the abject fear, was all something he'd lived with for centuries and if he could have spared his darling wife, he would have. It was just one of the downsides of being with him. It was something she had accepted long ago when she'd married him. "Of course, but don't let them bother you, sweetheart. It's not so much the fact you are taking a stroll with your husband, but your _choice_ of husband."

          She _humphed_ and looked the menu over, smiling at the scantily clad waitress behind the counter and giving her order. It would have been easier to have made breakfast at home and enjoyed their meal in private, but he had been adamant to get her out of the house. He was nervous and jumpy, and she knew he hadn't been sleeping well, but he wouldn't open up to her and tell her what was wrong. She had a feeling it didn't have anything to do with the obscene amount of chocolate he'd consumed last night.

          Belle turned to take in the little diner, liking what she saw. It was quaint, but the open stares of the few patrons and the quiet whispers put her off. Thankfully, it didn't take long for the waitress to hand over their order, and she and Gold were back on the sidewalk to make their way to his pawn shop. She tucked her hand in the crook of his elbow and smiled, trying to distract herself from her agitation. Perhaps they would be able to have a nice quiet breakfast together without too many interruptions. She had to admit to some curiosity about what he did for a living, and she couldn't wait to see the treasures he had stored in the shop.

          Gold was quiet as he watched her move around the shop, nibbling on her breakfast sandwich as she looked over the many antiques, her eyes alight with fascination. She was inspecting the unicorn mobile hanging over one of the display cases when he slipped into the back room to make tea. He sat down at his desk, waiting for the water to boil, closing his eyes briefly in the rare moment of quiet. He was not expecting her to silently enter the room and sit down on his lap.

          His deep sable eyes were wide as they met hers. "Um … Belle … what are … tea's almost …"

          Belle slipped her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to his, cutting off what he'd been trying to say. She melted into him, pouring every ounce of pent up desire into exploring his mouth, running her tongue along his lower lip until he granted her entrance. She was tired of him holding her at arm's length. She was tired of him refusing to let her touch him in this way.

          Every night she would curl up against him and he would hold her, but never let her hands wander over him, never let her take that next step. He was her husband, for god's sake! And never in all the time she'd been with him after her release from the hospital had he ever kissed her, really kissed her. Sure, he kissed her hair, her temple, her brow, her nose and her cheek, but never her lips. And now she had him and she'd be damned if she'd let him go.

          Gold's fingers dug into the arms of the chair as he fought to keep himself from being lost to the feel of her tongue in his mouth. Dear Gods, how had he let this happen? Her sweet little tongue tasted of honey and french toast and everything Belle. She tasted so good, so right, he wanted to cry in frustration. He grabbed her upper arms to push her away, but she held on tighter, brushing her nails against his scalp and gripping his hair to hold him in place as she plundered his mouth. How was he supposed to resist? Truth be told, he didn't want to resist any longer. She was his wife, his love, his Belle, and he wanted her so much it was painful.

          Belle smiled against his mouth as she felt him yield to her, his arms wrapping about her and tightening possessively, crushing her to his chest. His hand delved into her hair, dislodging the pins and sending them to scatter across the floor as he held her to him and took command of the kiss, using teeth, tongue and lips to show her just how much he had been denying them both. She was ready to scream in outrage when she heard the faint tinkle of the bell on the front door of the shop.  _No! No, no, no, no!_

          "Gold? You here?"

          "Fuck!" he hissed, ending the kiss and meeting Belle's eyes. They were dark with desire and need, her lips swollen from his kisses, and her breath coming in short little pants. She'd never been more desirable. "I'll get rid of her, my Belle. I promise."

          Belle smoothed his hair down and straightened his tie before she moved off his lap. She was really beginning to not like this Emma person. She flopped into the chair and huffed out a great puff of air, closing her eyes and counting to ten, willing her heart to slow its rapid beat. Her body was still thrumming with desire and she squirmed, trying to find a more comfortable position. She removed the whistling kettle from the hot plate and tried to distract herself by looking at the different objects on the many shelves of his office, but it was little consolation when the sound of his voice coming from the front of the shop was doing very naughty things to her nerve endings.

          She rose to run her hands along the different things she'd spied, only to stop, her eyes landing on something covered by a dust cloth. It was shoved against the wall, partway towards the very back and hidden by numerous packing crates, but it intrigued her.  _What could that possibly be?_  She moved the packing crates aside and noticed it was tall, nearly six feet and very flat as it rested innocently there against the wall.

          Gold ran his hand through his hair as he brushed past the curtain and into the back room where his wife was waiting for him. Damn Emma Swan and her petty investigations. He couldn't have cared less about the broken compass she'd brought in, looking for the previous owner.  _Yes, dearie, it belongs to Hansel and Gretel._ That would've gone over quite well.

          His body was still inflamed from Belle's hot little mouth and he had no desire to bandy words with the savior unless she was there shouting at the top of her lungs that she was a believer and ready to break the curse. He was surprised to find Belle off in a corner staring at something covered in a cloth, her head tilted to the side, a sure sign she was thinking hard about something.

          "What are you looking at, dearest?" he asked, slipping his arms around her waist and pulling her back against him. He buried his face in her hair and breathed her in, suppressing a shiver as her scent wrapped about him like a cloak.

          She reached her hand out to the cloth and pulled, gasping softly as she uncovered a very old, antique mirror. "Nicholas, this … where did … No, it’s not possible …"

          Her voice trailed off, her body stiffening as a voice filtered through her head like pinpricks.

_Say it!_

_Say his name!_

_Say my name, love!_

_Say it!_

_Say my name and come home to me, love!_

          Gold tightened his arms around her as he felt her slipping, her legs giving out under her. "Belle, what is it? What's wrong?"

          Her hands went to her temples as pain shot across her skull. She could hear Gold asking what was wrong, his voice worried and concerned, but she couldn't answer, her attention focused on the mirror. She cried out sharply as the pain in her head increased and she fell to her knees before the beveled glass. His cane clattered to the floor as he dropped down behind her, cradling her in his arms as she threatened to shake to pieces.

          "Belle, please!"

          Her face twisted into a mask of pain and she pitched forward, her face inches from the glass. Her hands flew out to brace against the mirror and her eyes flew open wide as she breathed, "Show me …"

          "Show you? Show you what, my love? Tell me, Belle, so I can help you," he cried against her shoulder, trying to hold her back, trying to keep her from breaking the glass and cutting herself.

          "Show me Rumpelstillttsskkiinn," she wailed, her voice shrill with pain, sobs wracking her small frame. Her hands clutched her hair in a tight grip, threatening to rip it from her scalp as the images flitted across her mind in colors too bright, sounds too loud, smells too pungent. What was happening to her?

_Why do you spin so much?_

_It helps me forget._

_Leave it. I'll get used to it._

_Are we talking deals, dearie?_

_I'm not foolish enough to make another deal with you, Rumpel._

_I can give you_ anything _, Belle. What do you want?_

_You._

          Gold took her face between his hands, staring at her incredulously. Had she? "Belle, sweetheart, open your eyes. Please, Belle," he begged, desperation in his voice. His heart was breaking as he listened to her moans and whimpers of pain. He knew what she was going through, he'd been through it himself. It was the price to be paid for regaining her memories before the curse could be broken.

          Belle pried her eyes open to meet his panicked gaze, her hand lifting to cup his cheek. "Rumpelstiltskin …" she moaned softly, trying to smile up at him but not quite managing through the red haze of pain.

          His heart skipped, and he forgot how to breathe as he crushed her to him. She remembered. Thank the Gods! "Belle, sweetheart … I love you," he whispered against the shell of her ear. But she didn't hear him. She'd finally fainted from exhaustion, the memories flooding her and the migraine.

          And just how was he supposed to get her to the hospital with a bum leg? He wasn't going to let her suffer the way he had for two days writhing in pain. Jefferson! He dug in his pocket for his cellphone and sent a text.

_Pawn shop, NOW! Belle. Memory. Need hospital._

          He didn't care that it was nearly illegible as long as Jefferson responded.

 

*.*.*

 

          Belle was screaming by the time they reached the emergency room. Jefferson sat in the backseat with her cradled in his arms as Gold drove. Gold was nearly hysterical because he couldn't seem to get her there fast enough and he'd run every red light and stop sign on the way. The only reason he knew this was because Emma pulled up behind them at the ER entrance and told him. He ignored her and pulled the door open, helping Belle out of the car. Jefferson got out the other side and ran around the car, scooping her into his arms and taking her inside, leaving Gold to follow.

          Jefferson brought her straight to the back and laid her on a bed in an open room, pressing the nurse call button. "Who's on call?" he asked when the nurse answered.

          "Dr. Whale. Is that you Madden?" the nurse asked.

          "THAT QUACK IS NOT TOUCHING MY WIFE. GET HOWARD OR BRYAN IN HERE," Gold yelled into the intercom.

          "Gold, what is going on? You …" Emma asked, coming around the curtain to face him. Her voice trailed off as Belle let out another piercing scream and nearly fell off the bed. Jefferson put the rails up and laid his hand to the center of her chest to hold her still.

          Gold rounded on Emma. "Not now, Miss Swan!"

          "What's wrong with her?" she asked, clearly alarmed. Emma had already heard about Belle Gold being released from the mental ward and wondered if maybe she was suffering a setback or worse … a psychotic episode.

          "Severe migraine," Jefferson answered, his undivided attention focused on Belle.

          "Rumpel …"

 _Not good! So not good!_ "I'm here, my Belle," Gold said, stepping next to the bed and placing his hand on her brow, brushing the hair away from her face. "Shh. It'll be alright, love. They're going to help you."

          Jefferson pushed the intercom button again. "GET THE DOCTOR IN HERE NOW," he ordered. He rolled Belle over in time for her to lose the contents of her stomach.

          Emma scrunched up her nose in distaste. "I've never seen a migraine effect anyone like that before."

          Dr. Whale came around the corner and took in the scene. "There are entirely too many people in here. Madden, you shouldn't even be here since you're assigned …" Gold turned on him and backed him into the wall, his cane at the doctor's throat. He barely registered Emma trying to pull him back. This was the same doctor who was under Regina's rather heavy thumb and he wanted the man nowhere near Belle.

          "Rumpel …" Belle called again, her hand reaching for him. It was his name, once again weakly uttered, which drew him away from Whale. He moved back to her side and leaned close to her ear, muttering nonsense just to calm her. "Where are we?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

          "I brought you to the hospital, love. It's alright," he crooned softly to her.

          She grabbed the lapel of his suit jacket, her eyes wide with fear. "No! No hospital. They're going to throw me back in that cell. You promised! Please don't let them take me. Don't let them separate us again." She was crying now.

          Tears were gathering in his own eyes. "Belle, I promise no one is fool enough to take you from me. Do you hear me? I'm not going to leave your side." He glanced over at the doctor, his lips drawn back in a snarl. "Well, are you just going to stand there or are you going to give her something?"

          Jefferson filled Whale in on what was happening and watched closely as he began to examine Belle. He ordered an IV and intravenous drugs. Demerol for the pain and Phenergan for the nausea. Gold warned Jefferson to make sure the prescribed drugs were correct and that he double and triple checked that it was all they gave her. He wouldn't put it past Whale to try to pull a fast one.

          Emma came back into the room and Gold looked up at her, surprised she was still there. "Here's your keys," she said, dropping them in his outstretched hand. "I moved your car out of the unloading zone. And here is your ticket."

          Gold glared at her, but she merely smiled. He looked at the ticket. "Seven red lights and two stop signs? I had my emergency blinkers on."

          "You could always use your favor and I'll tear it up right now," she offered reasonably.

          "Forget it, dearie. I'll pay the bloody fine," he grumbled and turned back to Belle. The drugs were finally taking effect, her eyes slightly glazed and glassy.

          "Fine." She glanced at Jefferson who looked like he was holding the wall up and then back at Gold who was lowering the bed rail, so Belle could scoot closer to him. Emma turned and left, shaking her head at the threesome, and making a mental note to keep an eye on them in the future. Something was just off where Gold and his odd little wife were concerned. She'd have to be odd to be married to Gold.

          Jefferson pushed off the wall and sighed, delving his hands into his pockets. "You gonna be alright, Nick? I left Paige with Ruby and I need to go pick her up."

          "Yes, I believe so. Thank you, hatter," Gold murmured quietly, his eyes never leaving Belle's ashen face.

          "Call if you need me," Jefferson said, turning on a secondary light and switching off the bright overhead as he left.

          Belle's hand felt like it was attached with lead weights as she lifted it to brush the hair from Gold's eyes. "You're hiding from me again," she giggled.  _Wow! What are they giving me in this little tube?_  She felt as though she could sleep for a week, but there was so much she wanted to tell him, so much she had remembered through the haze of pain. "Rumpel …"

          "Yes, dear one. I'm here. I'm not going to leave you for a moment," he crooned softly, brushing her hair back and kissing her brow. His name, shortened on her lips was like a soft caress to his bruised emotions. How long had he waited to hear her say it? He laid his head beside hers on the pillow, their noses touching, sharing the same air and he felt as though she'd finally come home to him. The spark had come back to her eyes and he could see her love for him there.

          "I love you, my Rumpel." Her voice was slurred from the medication being pumped into her, but her words were no less heartfelt.

          "And I love you, too, my Belle." He pressed his lips to hers and he could feel the tingle of electricity shock his lips. He could feel  _her,_ her _true_ self shining through, his  _true_  love. "Gods, how I've missed you."

          Belle wiped away his tears with her fingertips and curled her fingers into the hair at his nape, holding him close to her, never wanting to let him go. "I remember, Rumpel. I remember the night you brought me home to the Dark Castle and how frightened I was of you. I remember your chipped cup. I didn't know what you were going to do to me, and then you looked at me so oddly as though you didn't know what to think of me."

          He noticed that her voice was so sleepy, her eyes drooping with weariness. "Hush, love. You can tell me later." It was so quiet in the borrowed room save for the whisper of their voices, he could simply continue to rest his head next to hers and sleep in their light embrace. "Try to rest, my Belle."

          "No, I want to tell you, Rumpel. I think I loved you even then. It took so long for you to show me your heart and who you truly were. It was much too late for me by then." She smiled and kissed him softly. "My heart was a gooey mess beneath your boot." He laughed with her then before she continued with her trip through the garden of her memories. "The day I fell, and you caught me … that was when I realized how much I  _wanted_ you, that I was completely in love with you."

          "You scared the hell out of me that day. I turned that ladder into kindling, I hope you know," he said in all seriousness.

          She carded her hand through his hair, scraping her nails along his nape. "Rumpel, is this how you looked before your curse?"

          Gold could feel his old insecurities begin to well up in his chest. "Yes." He lowered his eyes, not wanting to see revulsion in her eyes.

          "Look at me, darling," she commanded firmly, tipping his chin up. "I love the way you look; very handsome. But I miss the amber of your eyes and the gold tone of your skin. I love both versions of you, Rumpelstiltskin."

          He snorted, uncomfortable under her close scrutiny. "Belle, you have to call me Nicholas for the time being. I don't want anyone to overhear and think you've taken leave of your senses."

          "I'm sorry. I promise I will be careful."

          "Belle, can you tell me what happened to you? The night of Snow and Charming's wedding?" he asked, the subject a painful one, but needing to be broached. "Belle?" But she had already drifted into sleep, a peaceful smile upon her rosebud mouth.

          Gold stayed where he was, his brow pressed to hers, and closed his eyes. He wouldn't sleep, determined to make sure no one harmed her while she slept. She had returned to him, mind, body and soul and she wouldn't be taken from him ever again. He would take her home and, no doubt, take a few days off so they could plot and plan and scheme and love and pick up where they had left off by each other's side. Hopefully, they could work on Emma and help her believe in her destiny. But what weighed most heavily on his mind was the identity of her captors and the revenge he had in store for them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/n: FINALLY!!!


	37. Chapter 37

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter contains adult themes; reader discretion is advised.

          Belle's eyes fluttered open against the harsh morning light filtering through the bedroom windows. She glanced over at the digital clock on the nightstand and stifled a groan. Seven twenty, it read. She tried to move, but the weight of her husband, sprawled across her body like a throw blanket, hindered any movement and brought a smile to her face. Usually it was her who was lying across him, she thought fondly. They hadn't left the hospital until five the previous evening and he'd brought her home, putting her to bed and hovering like a mother hen with a clutch of chicks.

          He'd explained why she was suffering, that it was because of her memories returning before the curse had been broken. Didn't he realize she would have suffered the agonies of the damned to be with him again? He'd told her he'd gone through the same thing, but it had lasted much longer. She could very well imagine so, considering he had three hundred year's-worth of memories to catch up on and she a mere twenty-two.

          Very carefully, she began to ease out from under her husband, praying she could do so without waking him. The last week, she knew, had taken its toll on him as well as he'd tried to nurse her back to health and bring back her memories at the same time. She slipped into the bathroom and turned the shower on, stepping under the spray, but her thoughts remained on the man she'd left in their bed.

          She needed the time alone to gather her courage to tell him what he wanted to know, what had happened to her before the curse. There were so many things she wanted to share with him, not just her memories, but new experiences in this whole new confusing land. And Baelfire! Had Rumpelstiltskin been able to locate him? Her mind was befuddled with questions only he could answer.

          Belle got out of the shower and dried off, toweling her hair dry and slipping into Gold's silk bathrobe hanging on the back of the door on a hook. She padded on silent feet back to the bed and sat on the edge, running her hairbrush through her thick hair as she watched Gold sleep. It was going to take some getting used to, this new visage he carried. Her eyes softened with love as she watched him. She could see the imp  _and_  the man in his features, the best of both worlds. And he belonged to her.

          His hand stretched out, searching for her amongst the cool sheets, his eyes fluttering open to find her. He rolled over onto his back with a jerk and then visibly relaxed back onto the pillows when he saw her sitting at the foot of the bed. "Hey," he rumbled with a deep sigh of relief.

          "Hey, love. Scared I’d run away?" she asked with a teasing grin, ignoring the elephant in the room.

          "Of course not, no," he said softly, his voice still raspy and deep from sleep. He held his arms open, an invitation to come sit next to him, and took the hairbrush from her. "Talk to me, dearest. If you want to, that is. I won't pressure you," he assured her, though inside he was burning with the need to know what had happened to her.

          Belle pulled her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around her knees, sighing contentedly as he pulled the brush through her hair. She'd forgotten how much she loved to have him brush her hair at night before the comforting roar of the fire. "I don't know that I should tell you," she said nervously, plucking at the gold encircling her wrists. She'd never wished so much for her own magic to be available to her. She didn't want to see him fly into a rage, his formidable temper so unpredictable.

          "Are you angry with me, my Belle?" he asked softly, worry lacing his tone.

          "What? No, why? Should I be?"

          "I failed you ... I failed to find you and bring you home." The brush stilled in her hair at that and he sat back against the pillows, disgusted at the truth in his heart. How could she ever forgive him? First, he'd failed Bae, now Belle. He didn't deserve forgiveness.

          She turned around to face him, taking his hand in both of hers. "You have never failed me, Rumpel. There were too many odds against you. And … and I know how hard … how hard you tried to find me. I-I saw you. Every day, I saw you." She leaned into his palm as it came to settle on her face, his thumb brushing away her tears.

          "You saw me? How?" he asked, trying to make sense of her words.

          "The mirror."

          "The one in the shop? The one …"

          "Yes. It was supposed to be used as a tool to turn me against you. My captors wanted me to see you in action, my love. They wanted me to see you conduct your deals and spread your evil. They were certain losing me would drive you to even more despicable acts in your grief."

          The color drained from his face as he remembered some of the more horrible things he'd done in her absence and he looked away, unable to meet her eyes, refusing to see the pain he'd caused reflected in her eyes. "You saw everything?"

          She brushed away the hair from his brow which had fallen to conceal his eyes. "Yes, I saw everything. All I had to do was ask the mirror to show me. There are several people who are going to have to answer for their actions, Rumpel, but you are not one of them." Finally, he raised his eyes to hers, incredulous she didn't want to see him punished as well.

          "Who would do such a thing as to make you watch me … why didn't you use your magic to contact me? To escape?"

          "Really, love, do you think I didn't try? Daily? Even though I knew it was pointless, I never stopped fighting to be free of my prison."

          Gold sighed in frustration. "I think you need to start at the beginning."

          Her eyes held none of the warmth he had grown so accustomed to over their time together. "You may do as you will with Regina, but there was someone else involved. And before I tell you everything I need your promise you will let  _me_  deal with them in my own way once you bring magic to this land. I will have your promise, or you will forever wonder what really happened," she stated adamantly. She would not let him take her revenge from her, and in truth it would be far more lenient than anything her husband could dish out.

          "Belle, you can't be serious. It is my right to protect you, to avenge you." He was shouting now.

          She stared him down, her brow raised in defiance. "Rumpelstiltskin, I  _will_  have your promise. You can protest from now until we return to the Enchanted Forest, but you will promise if you want answers."

          Their gazes locked in battle, neither willing to concede. She knew he was wracking his brain, trying to find a loophole in order to have his way. "Why would you take this away from me, Belle?" he asked petulantly.

          She raised the hand she still held and pressed a kiss to his palm. She dared not get any closer to him for fear they'd never get through the discussion in favor of more pleasurable activities. "Darling, I'm not trying to take anything away from you, but I'm not going to let the darkness within you consume you. You have to struggle so hard to keep it at bay and I don't want to lose you to it."

          "But, love …"

          "Please," she asked, her eyes pleading.

          His breath came out in a huff of surrender. "Fine. I promise. I don't like it, and I feel rather cheated, but you have my promise," he replied grudgingly. "Now, tell me."

          "Why did you think it was Regina? With your blood, with your protection and our bond, do you really think it would have been so easy for Regina to bind my magic and make off with me?"

          "No, but I still had her watched. I knew she was involved, but I couldn't prove it. If it hadn't been for our need for her to enact the curse, I would have happily shredded her with my own hands. I wouldn't have even used magic to end her," he said, his eyes flashing malevolently.

          "Oh, yes, she had a hand in it, but her part didn't come until later. She let … _that woman_ … have her way until we arrived in Storybrooke. Regina wanted to use me as leverage to keep you in line, no doubt, but her part was minor. She's always been more obsessed with Snow to worry about us." She shook her head as if to clear it from thoughts of the black widow queen. "Anyway, I was taken from you right out of our guest chamber. Were you able to make your deals that night?"

          "Belle," he hissed in warning. "You're trying to avoid the issue."

          She grinned unashamedly up at his stern countenance. "Sorry. I was trying to get you to hazard a guess. What magic could possibly bind against yours? No one is as powerful as you are, Rumpel."

          "Old magic, ancient even. Only a few in the entire realm could come close and they might even have to combine it to …"

          She quirked a brow as it started falling into place for him. "Fairy magic. Fairy magic combined with Regina's dark magic."

          "Rheul Ghorm," he said, his jaw clenching, his eyes closing, trying to focus all his control into maintaining his calm. He failed miserably. "THAT MISERABLE MEDDLING LITTLE BITCH! HOW MUCH IS SHE GOING TO TAKE FROM ME BEFORE IT'S ENOUGH? EVERYTHING I LOVE, SHE TAKES. I'LL NOT STAND FOR IT, BELLE!" he fumed as he swung his legs over the edge of the bed. Belle placed her hand on his arm and pulled him back against her chest, wrapping her arms around his shoulders.

          "Breathe, darling. Remember your promise," she cooed softly, gently, against the shell of his ear.

          "I'm going to break her neck with my bare hands."

          "Rumpel …"

          "I'm going to throw her and her pack of self-righteous sisters out on their arse."

          "Rumpel …"

          "I'm going to burn the bloody convent to the ground."

          "Rumpel …"

          "I'll have her transferred to a convent far away from Storybrooke. And you know what happens when you try to leave town."

          "Rumpel …"

          "I'll … um … I'll …" His voice trailed off as she delved her hand into his hair and jerked his head back, her lips, teeth and tongue working in unison to play at his neck, robbing him of speech. He forgot all about his revenge for a moment when she nipped the lobe of his ear with her teeth.

          "Feeling better? Have you locked the beast back in his cage or do I need to continue?" she asked silkily, her voice a warm caress spreading through his body like a brush fire. "I love you, my husband, and I need you to bank your rage and focus."

          Her thighs cradled his hips as he leaned back into her embrace, closing his eyes and savoring the way she molded herself to his back. "Gods, Belle, you feel so good."

          She smiled and bit his shoulder through the fabric of his t-shirt, and he growled low in his throat. "Are you calm enough now to listen to the rest of the story?"

          "Not especially, but my anger has cooled a bit," he murmured as he let his head fall back against her shoulder, his lips seeking that most sensitive spot behind her left ear. She turned her head at the last minute to brush her lips to his. He didn't like the sadness lurking behind her clear blue gaze. "Did they hurt you, my Belle?"

          "They hurt me by keeping me from you, Rumpel. In the beginning, she tried very hard to take my bracelets, but her magic is no match for yours or your enchantments. She wanted so badly to break our bond. So, she settled for keeping us apart, thinking if I could watch your evil deeds, it would somehow turn my love to hate. And by keeping me from you, she wished for your power to weaken or for you to go mad with grief. She said it was not easy to be away from my true love if that was indeed what we had."

          Gold snorted in affront. "Clearly she underestimated us."

          "Clearly," she replied dryly, hugging him tightly. "But we will wait until the curse is broken before we confront her, together. I want her to remember what she did to us and live with the fear of retribution before we move against her."

          "I knew it would happen," he chuckled softly.

          "What?"

          "That I would eventually corrupt you."

          Belle hid her face in the crook of his neck and sighed. "You didn't corrupt me, Rumpel. I just don't think she deserves to get away with what she did to us. I don't want her to do it to anyone else." She let her hands trail down his chest and slip beneath the hem of his shirt before whisking the offending garment over his head.

          His voice was strained when he stated, "I can't believe I never suspected her. I broke my promise to you. I'm so sorry, Belle."

          "What promise is that, my husband? I don't remember you breaking your word to me."

          He caught her hands in his as her fingernails scraped against his chest. "I promised I would be there with you when the curse was enacted. I didn't want you to be alone and frightened. I didn't …"

          Belle placed her hands on his shoulders and turned him to face her, sliding her hands up his neck to cup his face, the pads of her thumbs gently brushing away his tears. "You  _were_ , Rumpel. You were with me always. I heard every word you spoke that night once the curse was on its way. I heard your beautiful sentiments of goodbye, and they brought me comfort. You never gave up on me … on us." It was her turn to cry in earnest.

          His arms wrapped around her waist as he pulled her onto his lap. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, and savored the feel of her in his arms. She'd be lucky if he ever let her out of his sight again. "I was so lost without you. We will have to be careful so as not to alert the queen. I can't lose you again, my Belle. I don't think I could survive it."

          She continued to run her fingers through his hair as he held her to him, offering what comfort she could. "You won't have to, my love. I will never willingly be parted from you again. I will always fight for you, Rumpelstiltskin. I am your strength, your hope and your light. You are my love, my passion and the little bit of darkness which keeps me balanced. No one can take that away from us."

          "No one has ever loved me the way you do, sweetheart. I don't deserve you after everything I've done, but I promise … I promise I will thank the gods for you every day of our lives. And I promise I will tell you and show you how much I love you every day of forever," he said passionately, his voice raw with emotion.

          "I will hold you to that promise," she nodded, pulling away slightly to meet his warm sable gaze. "I have one more question before I insist on you  _showing_  me how much you love me."

          "Really?"

          "Have you been able to locate our son?" she asked in all seriousness and it warmed his heart that she thought of Bae as her own.

          "Not as yet, love. I fear our search will have to wait until the curse is broken."

          She grinned slyly against his lips. "Then we will just have to put forth a better effort to get Miss Emma Swan to believe." But she was done with thoughts of the savior, her captivity and even her stepson. She'd waited long enough to be truly reunited with her love. She wanted to get lost in his familiar touch and his wonderful mouth and the pent-up desire only he could make her feel.

          Belle untied the belt on her robe and let it slip from her shoulders to ripple onto the floor behind her, leaving her bare in his arms. She felt the shudder run through him as she pressed her breasts to his chest and fisted her hands in his hair, claiming his mouth in a hungry kiss filled with desperation and need. She swallowed his gasp of surprise and thrust her tongue into the hot recesses of his mouth, seeking out, from memory, the places which brought him the most pleasure

          Gold's hands on her hips were almost painful as he swung her around to lay her upon the bed, never breaking contact with her lips, plundering her mouth and drawing a moan from deep in her throat. How could he have denied them this for so long? She was so soft and yielding, and molded perfectly to his lean lines. Two pieces to the same puzzle, fitting together as if she were made only for him. He broke the kiss only because he was starving for air, his lips moving to her jaw to leave hot open-mouthed kisses to her ear, nipping the lobe with his teeth.

          He cried out as she bit down on his shoulder, her nails raking down the length of his back. "Minx," he growled, leaning back to take her in. A frown creased his brow as he saw the effects of her confinement clearly, her alabaster skin pulling taught across her ribs. She shouldn't be so thin. If he'd taken better precautions, she'd never have been taken from him.

          Belle tugged painfully on his hair to bring his gaze back to hers. "Stop it." He began to pull away from her, missing her meaning. "No, Rumpel … stop feeling guilty. There is no room in our bed for us  _and_  your guilt or recriminations. Just us."

          "Belle …" She cut off his words, pulling his head down to meet her once again, her hand slipping between them to trail over the flat plane of his stomach. She ran her tongue over the seam of his lips, using her teeth to bite gently at his bottom lip.

          Gold crushed her to him, his hands skimming up her sides to cup her breast, his lips leaving a hot path of sensation over her jaw, her throat, her collarbone and dipping into the valley between her breasts. She gasped as he took her into his mouth, her back arching off the bed in an attempt to get closer. It didn't matter how close they were or how tightly pressed together, she felt as though it weren't close enough. Heat coiled in her belly as he traced his nails along the inside of her thigh and settled over the mound of curls between her legs, his fingers brushing her with a feather-light touch, teasing her.

          He took her mouth again, his tongue delving in as he slipped a long finger into her, groaning as her wet walls tightened around the digit. She was a writhing mass of pleasure beneath him, unable to be still beneath his questing hands. "Rumpel, please," she begged, her voice a breathless whisper against his lips. He flicked his thumb against her clit and felt her come apart, biting into his shoulder to muffle her scream. She whimpered as he moved away from her to rid himself of the cotton sleeping pants he wore.

          She had always been devastating to his control, which she proved as she took him in hand. He forgot to breathe as he buried his face in her hair and fought for the strength not to embarrass himself. It had been nearly thirty years since he'd been able to enjoy the pleasure of being in his wife's arms and he didn't want to disappoint her. She tugged on his hair, guiding his lips back to her and urging him onward. He slid into her easily and wrapped his arms around her to steady himself. The look of pure bliss on his love's face rendering him speechless.

          She bucked against his hips, unable to prolong the moment any longer, lifting her legs to wrap around his waist, her heels digging into the small of his back. "Move, love," she pleaded. He could feel the beast within him fighting to get loose as he thrust within her, his more primal inclinations coming to the fore, and he had to concentrate to keep the monster at bay, refusing to let anything, even him, hurt her ever again. But then, his Belle had always enjoyed that side of him, taking pleasure in provoking the beast. He could feel his control slipping, his movements more erratic, until he felt her inner walls flutter around him, her scream muffled against his shoulder. He came with her, tiny pinpricks of light erupting behind his eyes as she held him tightly to her, his breathing labored as he pressed his face into her neck.

          "Mine. My Belle … my wife," he breathed against her ear, rolling onto his side and pulling her with him, his arms still wrapped tightly about her.

          Belle grabbed the edge of the blanket and pulled it over them to ward off the chill in the room. She rested her head on his shoulder and smiled gently up at him, her hand brushing the hair away from his eyes. "I love you."

          "I love you, too, my Belle." He dropped a kiss to her crown and sighed with contentment. "Forever."

 

*.*.*

 

          Belle padded back into the bedroom she shared with her husband on silent feet and set the pizza box on the bed next to Gold before climbing in to sit next to him. She was once again wrapped in his silk bathrobe. There had been no point to get dressed once they'd agreed to remain locked in their bedroom for the remainder of the day. But his growling stomach had prompted her to at least order something to eat to fortify their strength.

          He yawned and sat up, taking in her appearance as she opened the box and inhaled deeply of the aroma of cheese, pepperoni and mushrooms permeating the air. "Please tell me you did  _not_  answer the door like that," he growled irritably before grabbing a slice.

          "I did."

          "Belle!"

          "Oh, give over, Rumpel. It's not like I was naked," she protested around a mouthful of molten sauce and toppings.

          Whatever scathing remark he'd been about to make was cut off abruptly as the house began to shake. Belle dropped her pizza back into the box and reached for Gold with a shriek. He wrapped an arm around her waist, instinctively trying to protect her, when the trembling died away.

          "Earthquake? Are we even supposed to have earthquakes in Maine?" she asked, visibly shaken, her jewel-bright eyes wide with terror.

          "I'm not certain, but thankfully, it didn't last long."

          He urged her to eat, assuring her all would be well. Finally, she calmed enough to finish off three slices before his cellphone chirped, alerting him to a text message.

          "Who is it," she asked, beginning to clear away the remains of their meal.

          "Jefferson."

_Mine collapsed near the edge of town. No one hurt. Did you know Emma is now a deputy? She's out here in charge of crowd control and Regina is livid! Just thought you'd want to know. Will keep you informed. Give my girl a kiss for me and tell her I'm glad she's back._

          "The mines? The same mines where you were imprisoned?"

          Gold thought for a moment, wondering if Regina's little trinkets were still stored down there. "I don't think so. Jefferson said the collapse was near the edge of town. My prison was closer to the center of town. There are many tunnels down there, but as long as the one running through to the library is intact, I don't think we'll have to worry."

          "What's so special about that one?"

          "That's where we locked up Maleficent," he said, flashing her a wolfish grin as she settled once again against his side.

          "The dragon witch?"

          "Indeed."

          "In dragon form, perhaps?" she asked dryly, poking him in the ribs.

          He shrugged and rolled her on top of him, delving his hands into her hair and pushing thoughts of the outside world out of his mind. "Blame Regina."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Can't wait to hear what you guys think. Thank you so much for all your support throughout this story. I know I’m not sticking with the exact order of the episodes sometimes, but I hope you can forgive me.


	38. Chapter 38

          In the two weeks which had passed since the cave in at the mines, it was no longer unusual to see Mr. and Mrs. Nicholas Gold together on the streets of Storybrooke. Nor was it unusual to see people stop and stare, sometimes even gawking openly at the newly reunited couple. Gossip was rampant in the small community. Some said he had locked her away for years because he couldn't live with her constant spending. And being the monster of Storybrooke, many believed it. Others said he'd had her locked up because she'd tried to leave him.

          Then there were the rumors she was a gold digger – no pun intended – and had only married him for his money. But a favorite of Belle's was that Moe French had sold her to Gold to pay off his debts. She had laughed, tears streaming down her face and whispered in her husband's ear that the gossips weren't that far off the mark. Gold had responded by kissing her deeply on the sidewalk outside the diner with said gossips openly staring from the windows. He didn't really care what anyone had to say about the relationship he had with his wife and neither did she.

          Nicholas Gold still suffered anxiety every time Belle wanted to go shopping with Mary Margaret or have lunch with Ruby or even have a girl's night with the friends she'd made so quickly. Really, what wasn't there to love about his wife? She had made him continue Thursday night poker and junk food at Jefferson's and joined in, growing closer to their _faux_ goddaughter. But it irked the hell out of him when she wouldn't allow Dove to accompany her when she left his sight. She could handle herself, she'd said. _You have no magic here, dearie_ , he'd responded.

          He was worried Regina would somehow try to take her anger against him out on Belle. He made sure she knew how to use the smartphone Jefferson had purchased for her, and required her to keep it charged so he could check in on her periodically. She, however, did  _not_  think periodically was defined as every twenty minutes.

          Which was how they ended up outside Granny's diner in a spectacular argument which had the patrons of said diner pressed against the window taking bets on who would win.

          "Are the Golds arguing again? What is it this time?" Mrs. Lucas asked, recognizing the raised voices floating through the door when another customer would enter or leave.

          "Yep," Jefferson said, leaning a shoulder against the window, a grin on his face as he watched his friends.

          "What do you think they're arguing about?" Mary Margaret asked, her eyes alight with avid interest.

          Ruby leaned over Mary Margaret's shoulder to get a better view of the bickering couple. "Something about her phone."

          David Nolan entered the diner and joined the group with a confused frown. "Do you think we should call Emma to break that up?"

          "Break what up?" Emma asked as she came in through the back door and stared blankly at them.

          Jefferson beckoned her over with a wave of his hand, but never took his eyes off the scene. "The Golds are arguing again." Emma joined them and squeezed to the front. "Alright, put your money on the table."

          "Papa, shame on you!" Grace scolded her father from the other side of the diner, her nose and Henry's pressed to the glass. "I've got twenty on Aunt Belle."

          "Paige, you're too young to gamble," Mrs. Lucas scolded. "I've got twenty on Belle," she said, slapping a twenty-dollar bill on the table next to Jefferson.

          "Belle's got a temper, but she's got nothing on Gold," Mary Margaret remarked, adding her twenty to the pot.

          Ruby rocked back on her heels and grinned, slowly nodding her head. "I say she pulls his hair again."

          Jefferson rolled his eyes. "You're on. But I say she pulls his hair  _and_  kisses him in the middle of the sidewalk."

          More money joined the growing pile.

          Henry shared a grin with Grace and dug in his pockets for his spending money. "I'm in and I say Belle does pull his hair, apologizes and  _then_  kisses him."

          Emma shot him a look which said  _what the hell_ , but didn't stop him from adding his money to the pot. "Henry! What do you know, you're ten? But I'll go in on that one." Jefferson raised his brows at her in surprise. "What? He usually knows what's going on before anyone else in this crazy town. If he was old enough, he'd be working with me down at the station."

          David groaned as he watched the scene unfold. "Poor bastard. He's so whipped."

          Mary Margaret jabbed him in the ribs with her fingernail, causing him to grunt in pain. "He just really loves her. I think it's sweet."

          "I think I'm fixing to lose money to a ten-year-old," David groaned, rubbing his hand over his injury.

 

*.*.*

 

**Outside the diner …**

 

          "Belle, you can't just turn your phone off. What if something happens and you need me? Do you know how long that infernal thing takes to boot up?" he asked, his voice a menacing growl.

          "Don't take that tone with me, Ru …"

          "Ah, ah, dearie, we're in public," he hissed.

          "Fine,  _Nicholas_. But I can't even have a simple bite to eat with my friends without you interrupting."

          "I am not going to let Regina get her vicious claws into you again." He was shouting now. "I will not lose you again, Belle. I won't."

          Belle winced and stepped closer to him, the anger draining out of her as his fears surfaced. He refused to look down at her, so she reached up to run her nails along the nape of his neck and tug at the ends of his hair. He shivered and wrapped his free arm around her waist, pulling her tightly against him. "I'm sorry, Nicholas. I know how you worry." She kissed the corner of his mouth and felt him relax against her. "I love you, Rumpel," she purred into his ear so only he could hear.

          "I love you, too, my Belle," he whispered against her lips as she cupped his face in her hands and pulled his head down, so she could kiss him. He pulled away slightly and raised a brow. "You do realize you must be punished for this little stunt."

          Belle smiled coyly up at him and tucked her hand in the crook of his arm. "I look forward to it, but first … let's have ice cream."

          "That's not exactly what I had in mind," he said with a smirk.

          "Too bad. I want a hot fudge sundae with caramel sauce and you're going to help me eat it."

 

*.*.*

 

          "Wow, Henry, how'd you know?" Mary Margaret asked as Jefferson began to dole out the winnings.

          Emma snorted. "Are you kidding? He knows everything about everybody,  _Mom_ ," she said dryly, causing Mary Margaret to giggle.

          Henry took his big winnings over to the counter and ordered ice cream and a cookie for himself and Grace, and settled onto a stool with a knowing smile.

          "What can I get you?" Ruby asked as the Golds settled into their usual booth at the back of the diner on the same side, Gold's arm stretched out across the back and Belle leaning against his side.

          "Hot fudge sundae, caramel sauce, no nuts, two cherries," Belle ordered. "And an ice tea for Nicholas."

          Emma stopped by their table when Ruby traipsed off to the kitchen with their order. "You two need to cool it with the public arguments," she warned and then ruined the effect with a helpless grin.

          Gold's mouth twitched into a rather pleased smirk as he glanced down at Belle who was trying to hide her blush behind her napkin. "We'll take that under advisement, Miss Swan." Emma nodded to them both and went to sit with Mary Margaret and David. Jefferson ushered Paige out, citing her science grade as an excuse to get her home to hit the books. She did with a goodbye hug for her godparents and a groan at her father.

          Henry, dejected with the departure of his friend, finished off his ice cream and went to sit with the Golds. Nicholas didn't look at Henry as the boy sat down, too concentrated on Belle who was shoveling a spoonful of the rich sundae into his mouth, a sinful smile perched on her rosebud mouth.

          Henry cleared his throat and smiled. "Hi, Mr. Gold. Hi, Belle," he greeted cheerfully, pulling his story book from his backpack and setting it on the table.

          Belle wiped the corner of her husband's mouth with a napkin and returned the boy's smile. "Hello, Henry." She leaned over conspiratorially and whispered, "So … how much did you win today?"

          Henry had the grace to blush, but his impish smile never faltered. "Over a hundred. Very good haul."

          Gold chuckled, a true genuine laugh he reserved for children and his Belle and admonished quietly next to her ear. "You are a bad influence, sweetheart." She grinned and offered him another bite.

          Henry opened his book and turned it to the page he was looking for, the picture of a stunning woman in a golden ball gown staring up at him. "I know who you are," he whispered to Belle, keeping his voice low.

          Belle read the warning look in Gold's eyes and fidgeted with her napkin before smiling a little too brightly. She was a terrible liar, always avoiding even little white lies in preference of the truth. "Of course, you do, Henry. We've gotten to know one another quite well since you've begun spending time with Paige at our home."

          "No. I know who you really are. And I know you  _remember_."

          Belle felt Gold stiffen next to her before he leaned forward to study the intelligent gleam in Henry's eyes. "And just what is it she's remembered, my boy?" he asked, his tone flat.

          Henry met his level stare, not an ounce of fear showing on his features. "She remembers who she really is," he said seriously and turned the book, so they could see the story of Beauty and the Beast, the girl in the picture looking remarkably like the pawnbroker's wife. Belle shifted uncomfortably under the boy's penetrating gaze. "I just haven't quite figured out who you are, Mr. Gold. Since you're with Belle, I think you're the Beast, but I also think you're a lot more."

          "Very astute, my young friend," Gold said cautiously. "But after all, these are just fairy tales."

          Henry tilted his head to the side and grinned. "And all stories, even fairy tales, are usually grounded somewhere in fact, aren't they?"

          Belle hid her smile behind her napkin and nudged her elbow into Gold's side, raising her brow when he glared at her. Turning back to Henry, he stared the boy down with a gaze which intimidated grown men and sent them fleeing in fear for their lives, but Henry's smile didn't falter. Finally, he sat back with a sigh of exasperation. "The question is … how are you going to get your mother to believe so she can break the curse?"

          Henry bounced up and down on the booth, his excitement overflowing, and his smile blinding. "I knew it!" he exclaimed gleefully.

          Belle laid a hand on his arm to calm the boy. "Shhh! We do  _not_  need anyone to know, Henry. You cannot tell a soul you know about us," she warned.

          "I promise. No one believes me anyway." He studied Gold with rapt attention before asking, "So, who are you really?"

          Gold glanced hesitantly at his wife who shrugged, clearly stating it was his decision whether or not to tell the boy his real identity. "You do know there will be dire consequences if your mother were to learn who I am, do you not?" Henry nodded his head vigorously, coming to resemble a bobble-head doll. He leaned forward, his nose inches from Henry's and whispered, "Rumpelstiltskin."

          Henry's eyes grew as round as saucers, his mouth gaping open in shock. "Wow. You're like in almost every story in this book," he said in awe.

          Gold winked at him. "Indeed."

          Belle wasn't paying attention to them any longer as she watched Sheriff Graham sit down with Mary Margaret and begin speaking in hushed tones. "Nicholas, does the sheriff look a bit agitated to you? What do you think he's telling Mary Margaret?"

          "I couldn't say, love. I don't have heightened senses in this land and can't very well eavesdrop in on them," he grumbled, taking the spoon from her and polishing off the remainder of their ice cream. But he didn't like the way he kept glancing over at Belle. He knew all about how Graham had been Belle's caretaker while she'd been held captive, and it was making him uneasy.

          Graham finished his conversation with Mary Margaret and came to the booth, asking if he could join them and then taking the empty seat next to Henry. "I hate to intrude, but, Henry, I need to speak with you."

          Gold and Belle shared a look which clearly said  _Oh, damn_. Henry grinned. "Sure, Sheriff," the boy said and sat back to give the clearly nervous man his attention.

          Graham glanced surreptitiously at the pawn broker, but plowed ahead just the same. "Henry … am I in your book?"

          Henry's eyes widened again. "Why would you think you're in my book, Sheriff?" he asked warily.

          "I've been having these flashes," Graham told him hesitantly as Ruby set a glass of iced tea in front of him.

          Gold quirked a brow. "What kind of flashes?"

          Graham winced, realizing how crazy he was sounding. "Flashes of memory, I guess."

          "When did the flashes begin?" Henry asked, beginning to thumb through the pages of his book.

          Graham's face took on a flushed appearance. "After I kissed Emma last night."

          Henry gasped, his mouth falling open. "You kissed my mom?!" he asked in horror. Belle covered her mouth with her hand to stifle a giggle.

          Graham's face flushed a deeper red. Henry clucked his tongue in disgust and asked, "What did you see?"

          Graham thought for a moment, trying to recall all of the images which had flooded his mind. "I saw a wolf and Mary Margaret. We were in the woods and I had a knife in my hand."

          "Were you about to hurt her?" Henry asked, his eyes narrowing as he thought about the sheriff's statement.

          "Yes. How did you know that?"

          "Because Mary Margaret is Snow White," the boy said, flipping the pages faster until he came to a page with the picture of a man which looked suspiciously like the sheriff. "Which makes you the Huntsman."

          "So, you really think I could be another person?"

          Henry sat back and met his dubious gaze. "Makes total sense. You were raised by wolves. That's why you keep seeing one. It's your friend, your guide. It's trying to help you."

          "I'm remembering this because I kissed your mother?" he asked skeptically. "How is this possible?"

          "Well, you two do have a special connection. She owes you her life."

          "Why?"

          Henry's look told him he should have figured it out by now. "Snow White's her mother, and you spared her. If you hadn't … my mother wouldn't have been born," he explained.

          Graham still looked confused. "What happened after I spared Snow White?"

          Henry's face fell. "The queen took your heart. She ripped it out. It's kind of her thing. The compassion you showed towards Snow White made you weak and she ensured you would never be able to feel again."

          Belle felt tears well up in her eyes as she listened, and Gold tightened his arm around her shoulders and offered her his handkerchief.

          Graham paid them no mind. "Let me see that book," he said, and Henry slid it over to him. He flipped through the pages until he came upon a picture of Regina standing before a stone mausoleum. He tapped the page with a lone finger. "What's that? I saw that, too. The wolf was howling at it."

          Henry studied the picture before answering. "That's her vault. That's where she put your heart."

          Graham nodded, finally understanding. "The wolf wants me to find it. Thank you, Henry." He was about to leave when Belle laid her hand over his in a sympathetic gesture. He fell back against the booth, images of her flooding his mind. He opened his eyes and stared at her in horror, turning his hand and taking hers in a vise-like grip. "I remember you, too."

          Gold's lips pulled back over his teeth in a snarl. "I'll thank you to release my wife, Sheriff," he hissed menacingly.

          Graham pulled his hand back quickly, his eyes wide. "Why do I remember you?"

          Belle sent a pleading look at her husband, silently asking what she should do. He shook his head imperceptibly, warning her not to say anything. "I don't know, Graham. But I hope you will let us know if you remember something," she said, wishing she could tell him more.

          He stood to leave. "I should go. Thanks again, Henry." He turned and left the diner, Emma calling after him before she followed him out the door. They nearly ran into Regina as she entered the diner, her eyes narrowing on the Golds as she saw the company her son was keeping. She didn't hesitate to approach the threesome, her eyes flashing with barely restrained fury.

          Gold cursed silently under his breath and swung his gaze to meet the mayor's. "Oh, what fresh hell is this?"

          Regina ignored him and turned her wrath on Henry. "What are you doing with  _them_?" she sneered. "You should be at home studying instead of spending time with the town pariah."

          Henry smirked and slid out of the booth. "Yes, Mom. I just sat down to say hello to Belle and Mr. Gold after Paige had to leave."

          "Yes, well, hurry home and get started on your homework," she commanded. She watched him leave the diner before swinging her irritated snarl back in Gold's direction.

          Gold ignored Regina as he urged Belle out of the booth, wanting to be on a level playing field with the queen in case things turned ugly. "Belle love, what are your plans for the remainder of the day?"

          "Just a few errands and then I'm going home." She leaned into his kiss, smiling against his lips at the disgust twisting Regina's face. "I'll see you tonight, my love."

          Gold watched her retreating figure until she disappeared from sight. Finally, he turned his satisfied smirk on Regina, chuckling softly at her discomfort. "What can I do for you today, Madam Mayor?"

          Regina swallowed audibly, wishing she had some antacids on her. "I need to speak with you about some property you own. The town wishes to purchase it for a new playground we'd like to build for the children."

          "And this can't wait for the next city council meeting?"

          "Actually, I was hoping we could get everything squared away before then, so I could present it for discussion."

          Gold raised a sardonic brow. "Ah, but you see, I'm just not … in the mood. Perhaps you can call me next week and see if I'm willing to speak to you then."

          Regina ground her teeth together in vexation. Ever since he'd freed his little maid from the hospital, he'd been unwilling to grant her even five minutes of his time. "But —"

          Gold rested both hands on the handle of his cane and leaned forward. "Now if you will excuse me, I've got to get back to my shop."

          "Gold —"

          " _Please,_ " he said, his smile widening as he stepped around her. Once again, the thought occurred to him that the request he'd made so long ago was one of the most satisfying deals he'd ever made.

          Regina's mouth slammed shut as she listened to the thumping of his cane against the tiled floor, her eyes narrowing and her mind whirling. She was convinced he remembered, but how was she going to get him to admit it?

 

*.*.*

 

          Gold was late coming home that night. He opened the door and paused, the heavenly smells wafting from the kitchen reminiscent of the Dark Castle, making his stomach growl. Belle smiled warmly as she came down the hall to greet him with a kiss and to help him out of his coat.

          "You're late, love. Is everything all right?" she asked, looping her arms about his neck and nuzzling her face against his throat, breathing him in.

          "No, my Belle. Everything is  _not_  alright," he replied tersely, taking her hand and leading her into the kitchen. "Why don't you sit down," he urged her.

          "What happened?"

          His gaze slid away from her as they sat down together at the kitchen table. "The huntsman is dead. The coroner said he suffered a massive heart attack."

          Belle's hands flew to her mouth to cover her gasp of horror, tears gathering in her eyes and trekking down her face. Her horror immediately morphed into rage. "Regina! She did this, didn't she? Because he was beginning to remember."

          "That would be my guess," he said quietly. Another ally who would have stood with them against the queen, now dead, silenced forever. He pulled Belle onto his lap and let her cry out her anguish against his shoulder.

          "He took care of me, Rumpel. He was a good man and now he's gone … because of  _her_ ," she croaked out as her sobs dwindled down into sniffles.

          "I know, my Belle," he crooned softly to her as he stroked her back soothingly.

          "How much more are we going to have to suffer at her hands?"

          Gold pressed a kiss to her crown and simply held onto her, taking comfort in the knowledge Regina would never be able to harm Belle again. "We  _will_  get Emma to believe, dearest. And when the curse is broken, we can sit back and watch Regina get everything coming to her."


	39. Chapter 39

          Belle groaned miserably as she felt her husband roll over in the bed they shared and drape his arm over the small of her back. She was lying flat on her belly, hoping the position would help to settle her roiling stomach.  _No more jalapeno, three alarm chili nachos for me!_  It was all Jefferson's fault. After the fire at the town hall, and the subsequent excitement to follow, he'd talked her into the four of them vegging in front of the TV with a movie and junk food. He'd thought it was hilarious to make Gold sit there and watch the Disney animated version of Beauty and the Beast, constantly pointing out the flaws. Poor Grace had looked embarrassed, being the only one of the foursome who didn't have her memories, thinking her father had finally plunged off the cliff of insanity.

_"I don't remember any wolves, or a snowball fight, or …"_

_"Shut it, Hatter!_  " Gold had growled, giving him a pointed glare.

 _"But you have to see there are a lot of things they left out, Nick. They should have added the scene where the Beast tosses her out on her behind and her dearest friend has to go and rescue her from her fiancé's evil clutches, so they could be reunited_ ," he'd said, fluttering his long lashes at Belle and giving her a playful wink.

          Gold had whacked him on the shoulder with his cane, spilling popcorn all over Belle's lap and then apologizing profusely. Ah, Belle thought with a smile, movie night at the Gold's. She glanced up at the digital clock on the nightstand and groaned. Not even seven o'clock. Today was Election Day, so at least she didn't have to get up and trek down to the school to help Mary Margaret today.

          She'd been volunteering as her teacher's aide for the past week, something she found she enjoyed … much to her husband's chagrin. He wanted her to spend every moment with him at the shop, but she needed time with her friend. Mary Margaret might not remember who she was at the present, but it didn't stop her from forming a new lasting friendship with Belle under the curse. And the time Belle spent with the children fed a deep-seated maternal need within her.

          She wanted a child with Rumpelstiltskin. She wanted to grow heavy with his babe, tangible proof of the love she shared with him. But how would that even work with the curse still in effect? Time was no longer frozen, but would she even be able to conceive? And how would he feel if she did? Did he want a family with her? Her head was beginning to pound as she tried to work through the myriad questions whirling in her mind.

          Now she was afraid she was coming down with the stomach flu she was certain she'd contracted from Mary Margaret who'd had to call in sick two days last week. The last thing she wanted to do was have to listen to her husband's tirade when he found out. Not that she would be able to hide it from him. Maybe she was wrong. Maybe it was the blasted nachos Jefferson had convinced her to share with him last night. Maybe … Her stomach churned again as Gold threw his leg over hers and pulled her back against his chest. _Damn!_

          Belle was barely able to make it to the bathroom in time, slamming the door behind her. Even after the contents of her stomach were on their way with a flush, her stomach wouldn't let her rest, dry heaving until she was limp and exhausted. To make matters worse she could hear the faint thumping of Gold's cane against the hardwood floor as he made his way to the bathroom door.

          "Belle, sweetheart, are you alright? What's wrong?" he asked, pushing open the door with a huge yawn and lowering himself down beside her to pull her into his arms. She knew his leg must be hurting him in their awkward position on the floor.

          "Stomach flu," she mumbled against the side of his neck as she laid her head wearily against his shoulder. "It's going around school. Mary Margaret was out with it two days last week and several of the children came down with it, as well. It shouldn't last but a couple days," she assured him.

          He rose unsteadily to his feet and wet a washcloth to press to the nape of her neck. "I'll make an appointment for you to see Dr. Bryan this afternoon."

          "No! No hospital," she protested vehemently. "I hate that place. It frightens me and brings back memories I don't care to relive, Rumpelstiltskin. Forget it."

          She tossed the washcloth aside and got up from the floor to brush her teeth before venturing back into the bedroom to crawl back into bed, pulling her pillow over her head and burrowing under the blankets. Gold followed and sat beside her. She moaned at the sudden movement.

          "But, sweetheart, it would make me feel better if you would see the doctor. Just to make sure it  _is_  the stomach flu and not something more serious," he reasoned.

          "Go away, Rumpel, and let me die in peace," she whined, her voice muffled by the pillow.

          "Don't even jest about such things, Belle," he snarked.

          She snorted and burrowed further into her blankets.

          "Can I get you anything? Tea, perhaps?" he asked as he rubbed her back, his hands moving in soothing circles. "I have that peppermint blend in the kitchen … the one that's supposed to help with nausea."

          "Thank you, Rumpel. Tea sounds lovely."

          He left her alone in her misery to go downstairs and prepare the tea to soothe her, thinking all the while that if she'd consented to work for him instead of volunteering at the school, she wouldn't be upstairs burrowed into the bed suffering the agonies of the damned. A bit melodramatic, but he was Rumpelstiltskin.

          He had just poured the boiling water into the ceramic tea pot when the doorbell rang. He glanced down at himself with a grimace, noting he was not dressed for company in his gray t-shirt and the cotton sleeping pants Belle had bought him as a gift … lurid purple cotton sleeping pants with a pattern of cauldrons on them, no doubt found at an after Halloween sale.

          Gold smoothed his hair down as he walked to the door and yanked it open, a snarl curling his lips when he identified the callers. "Miss Blanchard, the bringer of plagues," he deadpanned by way of greeting. "And Miss Swan, back with more false allegations?"

          Emma's gaze raked him from head to toe, taking in his disheveled appearance and smirking at his pants. "Uh … nothing I can prove, but no. I'm just along for the ride this morning," she said, fighting not to laugh.

          It took a great amount of forbearance to keep from slamming the door in their faces. "And what brings you here, Miss Blanchard?"

          "I'm so sorry, Mr. Gold, but I'm here to pick up Belle. She's going to help with the campaign and asked me to come early," she told him nervously, her eyes wide and uneasy in the face of his contempt.

          Gold leaned heavily on his cane and glared at her. "Well, I'm afraid that's not possible, Miss Blanchard. You see, Belle is upstairs right now curled into a ball, pale as a sheet, because of you and your plague-ridden class of youngsters who aren't wise enough to remain home when they are sick. Instead you venture out into the public to spread it around and infect all with whom you come in contact." His voice was steadily rising into an ear-shattering crescendo when he felt his wife's hand creep up the back of his shirt and rub at the small of his back.

          "Nicholas." One word, his name, was all she had to say to have him calm.

          He looked down at her ashen features and frowned. "You should go back to bed, my love."

          "You promised me tea," she returned weakly, holding onto the open door next to him. "Why don't you fix the tray while I talk to Mary Margaret and Emma and I'll meet you in the kitchen, hmm?"

          He glowered at their unwelcome guests a moment longer, warning them silently not to upset his Belle and turned on his heel to return to the kitchen. Emma and Mary Margaret grinned sheepishly at Belle from the open doorway, awed the tiny woman had tamed the monster everyone else in the town feared.

          "I'm sorry. He's just concerned about me," Belle apologized to her friends.

          Emma snorted. "Is he always like that?"

          Belle grinned. "You have no idea," she said and turned to Mary Margaret. "I'm so sorry I won't be able to help with the campaign today. But if I'm feeling better, I might be able to convince Nicholas to let me accompany him to the debate this afternoon."

          "Just let me know if there's anything I can do for you, Belle," Mary Margaret simpered, giving her a hug. "Get better, ok?"

          "I will. And good luck today, Emma."

          Belle shut the door and padded down the hall to the kitchen, taking the tea cup from her husband and gingerly taking a sip, letting the fragrant brew warm her. He regarded her silently, one perfectly arched brow raised in askance. "What? I know that look, so whatever it is you're planning or thinking you know I'm going to object to, you can forget it."

          He blanked his expression and blinked innocently at her, causing her to burst out into a fit of laughter. "I have no idea what you mean."

          "Of course not, love, because that would be ridiculous."

          Gold dropped a kiss to her brow. "If you really want to go to the debate this afternoon, I want you to stay at home this morning and rest. Is that too much to ask?"

          "I will. But I don't want to miss the debate. Something tells me it's going to be quite interesting."

 

*.*.*

 

          Belle watched her husband covertly over the top of her book as she sat in the library and watched him spin wool. It was rather odd to see him spin anything other than straw, but since there was no magic in this land, gold thread wasn't a possibility. She turned the page of her book, trying to make it at least seem as though she were reading. She studied his face in the soft light, only two lamps and the glow of the fire offering a warm glow.

          He'd been outed at the debate, Emma accusing him of starting the fire at the Mayor's office, but he'd taken it in stride. Just another of his machinations to position their savior on the great chess board in his war against Regina. But it had also driven him to his wheel, no doubt to plot and scheme, she thought with a small smile. Now they just had to wait until the results were in to see if his plans would come to fruition. Of course, he didn't look worried. Not Rumpelstiltskin. And even if he had been worried, the angst would never reveal itself on his closed features.

          "I know you're watching me, dear one," he murmured softly, lifting his gaze to hers. She grinned and rose from her perch upon the settee, moving to sit on his lap, resting her weight on his good leg.

          "I suppose I've lost my touch of being able to watch you without you knowing," she pouted, smoothing her hand over his hair.

          He nuzzled her neck and rested his head against her shoulder. "I always knew when you were watching. I could feel you, love. And I could hear. You would stop turning pages in your book, your breathing would become shallow and you would become so still in your seat."

          "How could you hear all that over the sound of the wheel?" she asked, dumbfounded over this little revelation. "I thought I was being quite sneaky."

          "Heightened senses, compliments of the Dark One," he chuckled, taking her hand and running his thumb over her palm. "Besides, I was  _quite_ attuned to you, dearest. The more time you spent in the castle, the easier it became. You would hum softly while you were cleaning and fill the emptiness with your light. I wanted you so badly, my Belle."

          The breath hitched in her chest as his hand trailed along her thigh, his fingers drawing her skirt up. "It's your own fault for being so stubborn."

          He chuckled as he nipped her ear with his teeth. "I had no idea then you had an affinity for monsters."

          "Yes, well, we all have our issues, don't we?" she teased. She cupped his face in her hands and pressed her lips to his, drawing his bottom lip in to nibble softly. "I love my beast."

          "I love you, too, princess." His phone chirped, and he was tempted to smash it with his cane when he noticed it was a text from Jefferson.

_And our new Sheriff is … drumroll please …_

_Jefferson!_  he texted. Belle giggled as she read the message.

_Wait, I have it here. Are you sitting on the edge of your seat in anticipation? LOL_

          Gold growled at the phone, his knuckles white as his fingers squeezed painfully around the offending piece of technology.  _I will not always be without my magic, hatter, and I have only one word for you …_

          Jefferson texted back,  _Snails?_

_Snails._

_Fine! Emma won. She was a bit surprised, too. After this afternoon's fiasco at the town hall, she didn't think she had a chance._

          Belle took the phone from him and began typing.  _Thank you, Jeff, for letting us know. Give Paige our love. B_

          She set the phone down on the wheel and looped her arms around Gold's neck. "Now … where were we?"

 

*.*.*

 

          Three days after Emma Swan was sworn in as Storybrooke's new sheriff, the bathroom door imploded to find Belle laying in a heap on the floor next to the toilet. She was pale, listless and all around miserable and her husband was furious. She could see the Dark One prominently present in his features, something she hadn't seen since her first week at the Dark Castle, and she felt the first twinges of real fear skitter up her spine. She could tell he was trying to contain his fury as he stepped over her prone form to start the shower.

          He stared down at her for a long moment before reaching down to haul her to her feet. "Get in the shower," was all he said before leaving the bathroom and slamming the door behind him. It was all he trusted himself to say at the moment. With wide staring eyes, she peeled her nightgown from her body and obeyed.

          Twenty minutes later, wrapped in his silk robe and running a brush through her drying hair, she found him sitting stiffly in the chair by the large bay window in their bedroom. He glared at her and pointed to the clothes he'd laid out on the bed. "Get dressed." Two words. Oh, today was going to be interesting, she thought as she began to pull her clothes on, eyeing him warily. She knew he'd never hurt her, but she really hated when he let his anger control him.

          "Might I ask why …" she began hesitantly.

          His eyes were molten pools of onyx as he grabbed her hand and proceeded to pull her down the stairs to the front door. He bundled her into her coat and led her to the car, one smooth cheek twitching as he ground his teeth together.

          Finally, she turned to him, her eyes flashing. "Would you at least tell me what offense I've committed this time?"

          "I am not going to spend one more morning listening to you retching on the bathroom floor. This is not some common stomach flu, and its past time to find out what it is," he hissed, his anger slipping a notch as her eyes began to fill with tears. "We are going to see Dr. Bryan this morning. I can't take this anymore, Belle. I can't stand to see you so sick. What if …" he couldn't finish, his anger disappearing altogether to be replaced by fear. She turned to look out the window, her own fear presenting itself. He covered her hand with his, and she jerked it away from him. "Belle, please, sweetheart. I promise I will not leave your side. Don't be frightened."

          Belle crossed her arms over her chest and let him lead her into the hospital, into the elevator and to a seat in the waiting room on the third floor. He didn't take his eyes off her as he took the clipboard from the nurse behind the desk and began filling out the necessary forms for her to see the doctor. She still didn't speak to him when he handed the forms and his insurance card over to the nurse and resumed his seat. She sat stiffly on the edge of her seat, shrugging off the hand he placed gently on her shoulder. He sighed with resignation and stretched out his legs in front of him, trying to get comfortable and still she said nothing.

          Gold knew not to say anything, knew it would be pointless. She wasn't angry, and she wasn't in a rage. No. His Belle was spitting mad. He hadn't seen her like this since the time he'd accidentally made it rain in her kitchen, ruining the cake she'd made. She'd looked like a drowned rat, her hair hanging in thick strands around her flushed face, her eyes sparking with fury. And the cake in her hand …he didn't want to think about the cake. He'd ended up wearing the little confection she'd made for him. His gaze swung to her as she began rocking softly on the edge of the chair. She was so close to a panic attack and it was all his fault.

          "Belle …" he began, but another furious glance stalled his speech.

          "Dr. Bryan will see you now, Mrs. Gold," the nurse announced, coming from behind the desk to open the door and lead her to an examination room in the back.

          Gold rose to follow. The nurse looked like she was going to protest until Gold gave her a look which could wither granite and she lowered her eyes, closing the door behind them and giving Belle a gown to put on. She took her vitals and wrote everything down on the chart and left them alone with the promise that the doctor would be with them shortly.

          Belle was still looking at the floor from her seat on the examination table while he paced the room. "Rumpel," she whispered into the silence. He was at her side in an instant, his arms going around her, pulling her into his chest. "Do you think there's something seriously wrong with me?"

          "That's why we're here, sweetheart. We'll find out and have you treated, and everything will be fine," he vowed, his voice hollow with fear.

          The doctor came in and ordered a full work-up, leaving Belle glaring at Gold after being stuck for the fourth time by a venipuncturist who needed to go back to school and learn how to find a vein the first time. Belle had to take his cane to stop him from whacking the poor man. Now all they could do was wait … and wait … and wait. And the longer they waited the more agitated Gold became. He wanted answers and he wasn't the type of man who was comfortable waiting idly for them.

          Belle grabbed his hand on his next rotation of pacing and pulled him over to her, slipping her arms around his neck. He curled himself protectively around her, holding tightly to her trembling frame. "How are you feeling, love?"

          Before she could answer, the doctor returned to the room and took a seat on the little rolling stool, her chart open in his hand. Gold turned his attention to the man, retaining Belle's hand. "Well, Bryan? What's wrong with my wife?"

          The doctor gulped audibly in the face of Gold's anger, but closed the chart and tried to smile. "There's nothing  _wrong_  with Mrs. Gold. She's a quite healthy young woman despite the ordeal she was forced to endure," he said, blanching when Gold bared his teeth in a snarl.

          "She's been retching for a week now," he hissed. "Something most definitely  _is_ wrong with her."

          "All perfectly normal, Mr. Gold. The morning sickness should cease after the first trimester."

 _Wait, what?_ "I beg your pardon?" Gold asked blankly, the color draining from his face.

          The doctor looked at the chart again, unaware of the turmoil he'd unleashed in the pawn broker. "According to the information provided by Mrs. Gold and the test results, I would say she's about four weeks along." He smiled at Belle. "I'm going to write you a prescription for some pre-natal vitamins and something for the nausea if you'd like." He wrote on his little prescription pad and handed it to her. "I want to see you back in a month, alright? You can make the appointment with the nurse on the way out." He opened the door and turned back to the stunned couple. "And congratulations to you both."

          Belle was weeping happy tears as she bounced joyously on the examination table, trying to contain her glee. Gold was gaping like a fish, trying to free the words stuck in the back of his throat. Belle clasped his face in her hands and kissed him. "Rumpel, say something!"

          "You … me … baby," he gasped. "How the hell did this happen?"

          She blinked up at him, her face twisting into a droll smirk. "Really, love?"

          "A baby, Belle," he breathed, his voice filled with awe and reverence as he placed his hand over her flat stomach. He looked at her worriedly. "Are you happy? We've never discussed having children, Belle. Is this what you want?"

          "Yes!" she gushed happily. "Is this what _you_ want?"

          "More than anything."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: TA DA! Hope everyone liked the update. Looking forward to hearing what y’all think.


	40. Chapter 40

          "I don't want to go," Gold complained as Belle tied the bow tie around his neck and stepped back to survey her handiwork. He looked absolutely delicious in his custom-made tuxedo and she was wishing she were removing it instead of helping him dress. She gave him her back and pulled her long hair out of the way, so he could zip her dress. He answered her silent request, letting his hands linger as he pressed a kiss to her shoulder. "We could always change our minds and stay in tonight … enjoying much more pleasurable pursuits," he fairly purred, letting his lips find the sensitive flesh behind her ear. She shivered, and hope took wing in his chest.

          "I do love the way you think, Mr. Gold," she murmured silkily, turning in his arms and kissing him heatedly. "But it wouldn't do for us to miss Regina's Christmas gala. Just think of all the rude comments and snide remarks you'd be unable to deliver if we were to stay home. You'd be utterly depressed," she teased, her lips twitching with mirth.

          He pulled her closer and graced her with a wicked smile as she slipped her arms around his neck to toy with the hair at his nape. "Yes, Mrs. Gold; well, we all need to make sacrifices."

          "Not tonight. We won't have to stay long," she promised, slipping out of his embrace and donning the emerald earrings he'd given her to match her gown. "Besides, love, Jefferson will be there to keep you entertained. Just think of the mischief the two of you will be able to get into. Regina won't know what hit her."

 

*.*.*

 

          "Wow, Ruby … that's some outfit," Belle chuckled as she hugged her friend where she stood next to the buffet table. The short red sequined cocktail dress trimmed in white fur clung snugly to her curves with a matching Santa hat perched on her dark hair. Mrs. Claus she was not. "Have we missed anything?"

          "Nah, although Jefferson hasn't been here long enough to cause trouble. Now that your husband is here, that's sure to change," she snorted. "So, how are you, Belles, feeling any better?"

          "Uh … yeah. You know, just still a bit under the weather," Belle demurred evasively. She and Gold had agreed to wait to announce their joyous news, deciding only Jefferson would be told. And then, they were waiting until Christmas day when they would gather at Jefferson's home for a quiet Christmas dinner to give him the news. He would be their child's godparent, after all.

          "Oh, have you been sick, Mrs. Gold," a cold sneering voice intoned from over Belle's left shoulder.

          Belle turned to face her hostess and plastered a small cheerful smile to her lips. She could see both Gold and Jefferson leave their place across the room, headed in her direction. Her husband was still leery of having her anywhere near the direct vicinity of the mayor. "Good evening, Madam Mayor. Lovely party, by the way," Belle said politely as she felt Gold's arm slide protectively around her waist. Her health was none of Regina's concern.

          "Yes, thank you. It's a shame you had to miss last year's party," Regina said, intentionally letting her barb hit home, bringing Belle's incarceration into the conversation.

          "And we all know who's to blame for that, don't we, dear?" Gold asked with a raised brow. Behind him, taking advantage of the distraction, Jefferson dumped a pint of scotch into the crystal punch bowl full of eggnog. "Regina, I don't see your date anywhere. Who did you con into escorting you this evening?" he asked, his lips twitching up into a half-moon grin.

          Angry heat rose in the queen's face and Belle had to fight to keep her own grin from making an appearance. "I decided to come alone this evening, Gold. Much easier to keep an eye on my son that way."

          "Ah, yes, Miss Swan's son, you mean. Still trying to keep them apart, I see."

          Jefferson sniggered behind them and poured a cup of eggnog for Ruby, who was trying with little success to follow the volley of hidden innuendo between the mayor and Gold.

          Nicholas gave a pointed look to the dance floor where Emma, sheathed in a long white strapless evening gown was dancing with Henry. The boy looked up at his birth mother with adoration shining in his eyes. "Too bad your efforts are in vain, dear."

          Regina's eyes flared dangerously, intent on cutting in on them when Gold stepped in front of her and grabbed her hand, leading her out onto the floor and into his arms for a dance. "Let go, Gold," Regina hissed, her hand trapped in his iron grip. He winked at Belle over her shoulder.

          As repulsive as he found dancing with Regina to be, Gold figured he would let Emma have a few more moments with her boy. An early Christmas gift per se. "It must really cut you to the core to find your boy slipping right through your lovely manicured claws," he taunted with a smirk.

          The sound of Belle's musical laughter reached his ears as Jefferson twirled her around the floor, the sound soothing him as he focused on making his nemesis lose her composure. Regina glowered at her dance partner, still trying valiantly to free herself from his grip. "He's  _my_ son, Gold. She has no right to him. She made that decision when she gave him up," she hissed, her eyes resting worriedly on Henry. Deciding to change tactics, she stepped on Gold's foot, reveling in the pained grimace twisting his features. "It must be equally frustrating for you to have your sweet wife back with you only for her to have no memory of who you really are."

          "On the contrary, Belle and I have found certain aspects of our marriage which don't necessarily require memories. Aspects which are  _quite_ enjoyable," he said, biting back a laugh as Regina paled, her lips turning down in disgust as she caught his meaning.

          "That's disgusting, Gold."

          "Actually …"

          “I do _not_ want to hear about your sex life,” she snapped. “I do wonder, however … how is your little Belle? She seems to be spending an inordinate amount of time with Miss Blanchard and the Lucas girl. Her newfound independence doesn’t really make sense considering how you like to keep your possessions close to you.”

          Gold's brow disappeared into his hairline. "Belle is not a possession, dear. She's trying to build a life outside of our marriage, and I think it's good for her. Not that it is any of your concern."

          "And perhaps her life outside of your marriage will take on new meaning when she remembers who you  _really_  are," she smiled malevolently, her eyes narrowing slyly. She was convinced the former imp remembered who he was, but how was she to get him to admit it?

          "I'm sure I don't know what you mean … dearie," he taunted. Before she could reply, Jefferson cut between them and swept Regina into his arms, twirling her clear to the other side of the dance floor as Belle slipped into her husband's waiting arms.

          Belle smoothed her fingertips over the crease in his brow and continued to trail them over his cheek. "Don't let her get to you, love. There's very little she can do here without her magic," she said soothingly as he pulled her closer to his chest and pressed his brow to hers as they danced.

          "I don't care for her marked interest in you, dearest. She's caused enough trouble."

          "I know, Nicholas, it makes you twitchy. Hopefully, it won't be much longer until the curse is broken," she mused, her hand toying with the hair brushing his collar.

          He sighed, his breath mingling with hers. "Keep that up and we'll end up causing a scene," he warned.

          Belle glanced up at the chandelier where a large cluster of mistletoe hung directly above them. She tipped his chin up to follow her gaze. "We have a perfect excuse if you dare to act upon it," she teased.

          And that's how they ended up kissing passionately in the middle of the dance floor, unmindful of the open stares they drew, and Regina stalking away in search of antacids.

 

*.*.*

 

          "Would you just relax, sweetheart?" Jefferson intoned, tightening the grip he had around Emma's waist. "I promise I won't bite … unless you want me to, that is," he grinned, waggling his brows lasciviously.

          Emma smacked him in the back of the head and continued to try to wriggle out of his arms as he twirled her about the room. "Knock it off, Madden."

          He'd hijacked her away from David Nolan in the middle of their dance and scooted away with her, leaving the prince gaping. "I don't see why you won't give me a chance, my lovely Emma. I'm not such a bad guy once you get to know me."

          "Yeah, well, maybe I don't want to get to know you," she argued, biting back a curse when he twirled her around and then drew her sharply against his chest. She pushed against the front of his tux and bared her teeth at him in a snarl. "You've never heard of the phrase 'personal space', have you, Madden?"

          Jefferson ignored her question and smiled. "So, what are your plans for Christmas dinner … Emma?" he asked, her name of his lips a sexy purr.

          "Not that it's any of your business, but I'm spending it with Mary Margaret at home. Nothing fancy, really," she admitted, wishing she could spend the day with Henry instead.

          His grey eyes searched the room for the lovely Miss Blanchard and he steered Emma in the teacher's direction. As he passed, he transferred Emma to his left arm and snaked out with his right to capture Mary Margaret in his grasp, earning a shriek of surprise from her.

          "One dance partner wasn't enough for you, Jeff?" Mary Margaret asked with a chuckle.

          "Why have only one little lovey when I can have two?" he asked, waggling his eyebrows at her now. "Emma was just telling me of your holiday plans."

          Mary Margaret smiled sadly, wishing  _she_  could spend Christmas dinner with David. "Yes, we're just having a quiet dinner at home," she confirmed, repeating Emma's earlier statement.

          "And I think that both of you lovely ladies should spend Christmas with me," he drawled as he twirled them both before reining them back into his sides.

          That declaration was met with protests from both sides.

          "I don't think …" from Emma.

          "We wouldn't want to impose …" Mary Margaret demurred.

          "It will only be me, Paige and the Golds. I know how close the both of you are to Belle and you've always been fond of Paige, Mary Margaret," he said, cutting off their protests.

          "But that would mean we'd have to spend the holiday with Gold," Emma grimaced.

          "Nick's not that bad. If you can overlook the sarcasm and dry wit, he's got a heart of … gold … pardon the pun," he laughed. "And you haven't dined until you've had Belle's cornbread stuffing. To die for, ladies. You won't be disappointed."

          "I'm not going to be disappointed, because I'm not coming," Emma insisted.

          "Nonsense. You both need to join us for the festivities. Beats the hell out of spending it alone. Come on," he whined. "Please, please, please, please …"

          "Fine! If you shut up," Emma growled, getting a hand free and poking him in the chest.

          "Excellent!" He steered them both under the mistletoe and gave them each a hearty wet smack on the cheek. Emma balled up her fist and punched him in the solar plexus, but not as hard as she could have. However, it did gain her release and she stalked off the dance floor, leaving a laughing Mary Margaret to finish her dance with red-faced Jefferson.

 

*.*.*

 

          Belle giggled. "Would you stop that! It tickles," she said, squirming under the onslaught of her husband's lips. They'd returned from Regina's soiree, leaving a trail of rumpled clothes from the foyer to their bedroom in their haste to replace the memory of the evening with a much more pleasant one. Now he was lying between her legs, in the afterglow of post coital bliss, rubbing his face over her belly and raining kisses over it.

          He snorted. "Consequences of carrying my child, dearest. Our little daughter is in there and she deserves some love, too," he murmured, smiling against her belly button and lifting his warm whisky brown eyes to hers.

          "Daughter? How are you so sure it's a girl?" she asked, amused at his antics.

          "I'm the Dark One," he stated simply, as if that were the only explanation she needed. She giggled again.

          She carded her hand through his hair, smoothing it away from his brow. "And if it's a son?"

          "Then he, too, deserves love," he nodded solemnly, his lips smacking once again against her belly, gaining him another giggle. "It doesn't matter one way or the other. He  _or_  she will have two parents who love it unconditionally. It will be something wonderful and precious, a product of true love." He rose to his knees, kissing his way up her body to claim her lips. "I love you so much, my darling Belle. Merry Christmas."

          She sighed against his lips, reveling in the happiness they shared. "I love you, too, Rumpel. Merry Christmas, my love."

 

*.*.*

 

          Belle laid as still as possible on the white suede sofa in the den at Jefferson's, her feet in her husband's lap, his hands gently soothing the ache from her being in the kitchen all morning. Her stomach was churning, an angry vicious coil as the scents of their impending dinner wafted unpleasantly under her nose. Gold had ordered her to lie down after the second time she'd run down the hall to throw up, leaving himself and Jefferson to take over the kitchen duties.

          "How blasted long is this supposed to go on? What happened to the medicine Bryan prescribed for the nausea?" he asked, a worried frown marring his brow.

          "There are side effects and I don't want anything to harm our child," she explained in a quiet tone so no one besides her husband would hear. She'd been delighted to hear that Emma and Mary Margaret would be joining them, and hoped her morning sickness would dissipate before they arrived.

          Jefferson brought her a cup of peppermint tea and sat on the coffee table next to her, placing a hand to her brow to check for fever. "What's going on with you, my darling girl? You've been ill for a while now. Have you seen the doctor?" he asked worriedly.

          Belle grinned at her husband over the rim of her cup. "Would you like to tell him now, or wait until we open presents?" She knew how badly Gold wanted to share the news, and she thought it was only fitting that she give him an opening before he burst with the announcement.

          He grinned openly at her, amused by Jefferson's confused frown, his gaze bouncing between them. "Tell me what? What, what, what? What news?"

          "Calm down, hatter," Gold smirked, pouring himself a cup of tea and settling back against the sofa, taking his time to prolong the man's obvious irritation at being kept in the dark. "What I'm about to tell you cannot leave this room, do you understand?"

          Jefferson nodded. Belle explained, "Not even Grace can know right now, Jeff."

          "I promise!" He crossed a finger in an x gesture over his heart, his gaze ping-ponging between them. He glanced down the hall in the direction of Paige's bedroom and listened for a moment to make certain she was still on the phone with Henry. She was regaling him with a list of the things she'd gotten under the tree that morning, so he felt he was safe.

          Gold's grin grew so wide Belle could see most of his teeth, the gold one gleaming in the warm light from the windows. "Belle and I are going to have a baby."

          Jefferson's mouth fell open in shock. "What? Seriously, a little Rumpel bumple?" he squeaked, looking to Belle for confirmation. It would be just like the imp to pull a prank on him.

          Belle nodded, sipping her tea. "Sometime in July. But we don't want anyone to know just yet."

          "Merry Christmas, hatter," Gold grinned, accepting the jovial handshake from the man. "We also wanted to ask you if you would be our child's godfather."

          "I don't know what to say."

          "Say yes, idiot," Gold said, glowering at him.

          "Yes, of course, yes," Jefferson nodded fervently, hugging Belle warmly, squeezing a little too tightly and making her wince. He hugged Gold, and got whacked with the cane which earned a scolding from Belle as she threatened to take it from him if he did it again. "This is the best news ever."

          "What is?" Emma asked, following Paige - who'd answered the soft knock - into the room.

          "Um … that Nicholas didn't burn the turkey," Belle chimed in quickly, covering for Jefferson.

          "Yes, that is good news," Mary Margaret chuckled, hugging Belle in greeting and offering a smile to Nicholas. She was startled when he returned it and offered her a seat.

          Paige sat down next to Emma on the loveseat and held the phone away from her ear for a moment. "Emma, have you talked to Henry today?"

          Emma frowned. "No, Regina has my number blocked until she decides I've suffered long enough and lets me have visiting privileges again." It was grating on her nerves she couldn't at least wish him a Merry Christmas.

          Paige graced her with a gamine-like grin. "My number's not blocked," she said softly and held out the phone to Emma. A grateful smile curved the sheriff’s lips as she took the phone from Paige and left the room to talk to her son.

          Mary Margaret wiped a tear from the corner of her eye and hugged the girl. "That was the best gift you could have given her, Paige."

          "No big," she smiled, blowing off Mary Margaret's praise. "Henry was sad because he couldn't be with her today. I thought it was the least I could do for him … and Emma, too." She moved to her father's side and plopped onto his lap, looping her arms about his neck and hugging him warmly. She couldn't imagine having to spend the holidays away from the people she loved. "When do we eat, Papa? I'm starving!"

 

*.*.*

 

          Emma bit back a snicker as she watched Jefferson and Gold finish up in the kitchen and begin setting out a multitude of dishes on the long dining room table. Gold was wearing an apron that said, "If you know what's good for you, you will kiss the cook and praise the food" and Jefferson wore one that said, "I'll make your tea if you'll bite my crumpet". They moved around each other like the other wasn't even in the same room, comfortable to stay out of each other's way. She thought their friendship odd, but who was she to judge?

          It was definitely more food than she and Mary Margaret had planned to make for just the two of them. There was smoked turkey, ham, candied sweet potatoes topped with marshmallows, bacon wrapped asparagus—Gold's favorite according to Belle, but she also said he'd eat anything that was wrapped in bacon—cornbread stuffing, broccoli casserole—a new recipe Belle had wanted to try—cranberry sauce, and a lobster mac and cheese Jefferson had insisted upon.

          Jefferson dashed back into the kitchen with a curse, throwing the oven open in time to rescue the warm yeast rolls before they could burn. Gold glowered at him as he sat down, mumbling something about snails under his breath. Emma raised a brow. Snails?

          Jefferson grinned at Emma as he sat at the head of the table, the sheriff to his right, Mary Margaret to her right. Belle sat to his left, leaving Gold to be sandwiched between his wife and goddaughter. Several veiled remarks passed between the Golds and Jefferson, but other than that, the conversation flowed smoothly between them all. She had to admit Gold was a rather excellent cook.

          After dinner, they collapsed around the den, rubbing their bellies and fighting off a turkey-induced coma. Partly due to the fact Paige was too excited to wait another moment to open presents. Jefferson gifted Emma with a pair of fuzzy pink handcuffs which earned him a smack to the back of his head. He gave Mary Margaret a new fountain pen to go with the personalized stationary the Golds had given her. They gave Emma a photo album filled with pictures of Henry from infancy to the present. Belle had conspired with Henry, who'd pilfered the photos from Regina, and together made the scrapbook of keepsakes for Emma. It brought tears to her eyes.

          Mary Margaret gifted everyone with boxes of homemade Christmas cookies and candy. She was on a teacher's salary, of course. Emma gave Gold a tie, Belle the belt she'd been eyeing the last three times they'd gone shopping, and Jefferson a scarf. Paige was buried in gifts every teenage girl would be giddy over, ranging from makeup to an iPod filled with all her favorite songs. She was especially enamored of the sapphire studs from her godfather. Jefferson just shook his head over the extravagance. She curled up on her Uncle Nick's lap and hugged him warmly, smacking a kiss to his cheek.

          "You are very welcome, my darling," he said, blushing slightly as she moved to embrace her Aunt Belle.

          They had dessert in the den around the tree, polishing off an entire pecan pie and a helping of pumpkin spiced cheesecake and washing it all down with a cup of eggnog. Jefferson waited until Mary Margaret and Emma thanked them and left before he pulled out a gray jeweler's box and placed it in Belle's lap.

          "I found these in the attic last year while I was hunting for some Christmas decorations. I don't know why they were up there, but I wanted to wait until the two of you found each other again before I gave them to you," he said sheepishly, a small smile playing at his lips. "I suppose the curse and all …"

          Belle lifted the lid on the box, tears springing to her eyes. "Oh, Jefferson," she gushed, holding out the box to her husband. Tears gathered in his own eyes as he lifted the rings in his hand.

          "Our wedding rings." He took Belle's left hand and slipped her wedding and engagement rings onto her ring finger, pressing his lips to her knuckle as he'd done the first time he'd placed them there. She took her husband's hand and slid his ring into place, kissing his in turn. They each took one of Jefferson's hands, forming a circle in their friendship, all of them quiet as they took in the moment, holding it sacred between them. "Thank you, Jefferson," Gold said solemnly, using Jefferson's name instead of the usual 'Hatter'. "You can't imagine what this means to us. I thought they were lost forever."

          Jefferson ducked his head, flushing with embarrassment. "Yeah, well, remember this moment when you get your magic back and threaten to turn me into a snail."

 

*.*.*

 

          "Well, was your first Christmas in this land all that you'd hoped it would be?" Gold asked as he dropped down next to his Belle on the rug before the fireplace in their living room, the lights from the Christmas tree twinkling softly in the background.

          She lovingly caressed her mother's diamond teardrop pendant he'd given her for Christmas, having found it amongst the antiques at his shop. "Almost," she said as he pulled her into his arms and nuzzled his neck.

          "How so?"

          She rose from her perch on the rug and held out her hand to help him to his feet. "It won't be perfect until I give you your gift," she proclaimed with a mischievous smile. She led him to the library and made him close his eyes, leading him over to the settee and making him sit down. She moved to the wall he was facing and turned on a wall lamp which shone down onto a painting draped with a sheet.

          "Alright, my darling, open your eyes," she murmured softly.

          "It's a sheet, Belle," he said dryly, raising a brow.

          "It's what's under the sheet, silly." She removed the drape and watched her husband's eyes fill with awed tears.

          "How? Oh, Belle …" Call Guinness, she'd made the infamous Rumpelstiltskin speechless. He couldn't take his eyes from the painting she'd had commissioned. She sat next to him on the settee and let him pull her into his embrace. "How did you do this?"

          "I might've taken the picture you had hidden in the bottom of your desk and brought it to a local artist to recreate and make into the portrait. You have no pictures of Baelfire anywhere in the house and I thought you would like it. Do you?" she asked, her eyes settling on the portrait of her stepson.

          She cupped his cheek, brushing at his tears with her thumb as he leaned in to kiss her. "It's truly wonderful, my Belle," he breathed against her lips. Only one thought entered her mind as she lost herself to his kiss. This truly was the best Christmas she could have hoped for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I really hope you all enjoyed the Rumbelle Christmas fluff. I just thought it would be appropriate for them to have a little holiday cheer. Thanks so much for reading!


	41. Chapter 41

_Oh, shit! She doesn't look happy. We must be out of pretzel M &Ms again. Damnit!_ Gold continued to sip his tea as he watched his wife stalk up the sidewalk, up the steps and into the diner, the door slamming behind her as she entered, her eyes furiously falling on their usual booth. At fourteen weeks into her pregnancy, she was even more beautiful than she'd been when he'd first laid eyes on her in her father's keep. She was more so right now with her eyes flashing and a rosy blush staining her cheeks. And he had a pretty good idea what had her in such high dudgeon.

          "Really, Nicholas?" she asked, her toe tapping against the linoleum, her arms crossed over her chest.

          He rose from the booth and kissed her cheek, ushering her into the opposite seat. She glared at him as she sat down. "Hello, sweetheart. I already ordered so we shouldn't have to wait long."

          "Stop avoiding the subject. You know exactly why I'm furious. Did you order me a large chocolate milk and a pretzel dog? With mayo?"

          Gold wrinkled his nose at the mayo remark. "Yes, dearie, I remembered the mayo. How was class this morning with the little monsters?"

          Belle sat back against the red vinyl seat and raised a brow, a smirk curving up her lips on one side, the gesture she’d adapted from her husband. "Here's one better, love. Mary Margaret couldn't wait to tell me all about the altercation you had with my father in the middle of Main Street this morning when you had Dove collect his van. What. The. Hell?"

          Gold sighed and toyed with the straw paper as Ruby set their lunch in front of them. She returned to the counter when she was assured they didn't need anything else. She wasn't about to get in the middle of one of  _their_  arguments. "Belle, he was behind on his loan by two payments. I was well within my rights to collect the collateral," he replied stiffly, dousing his hamburger with ketchup.

          Her voice softened as she reached across the table to lay her hand over his. "He's your father-in-law, Nicholas."

          Oh, the fond memories he had of the man, too. His disgust in the monarch who just let his daughter go without a fight, letting her give herself to a monster to save her kingdom. How he had treated her when Rumpelstiltskin had returned her to Avonlea, leaving her to the clerics to prove her a maiden so she could marry that bastard fiancée of hers. How he had shown up at the Dark Castle just days before their wedding trying to convince her to come home, trying to convince her she would never be happy with a beast.

          "That doesn't mean I have to like the bastard," he hissed, angry color flooding his cheeks and turning his ears red. "I don't see why you're so upset. You haven't even spoken to him since … well, since I liberated you from the hospital."

          Belle's guilty gaze slid away from his as she took a bite of her lunch, her hands returning to the table to fidget with her napkin. "That's not quite true."

          His eyes narrowed, darkening to a dark chocolate brown. "What?"

          "I ran into him at the market last week. He asked how I was and then, of course, the conversation turned to our marriage," she said, trying to quell the anger and her raging hormones. The hormones seemed to make her emotions triple in intensity from what they normally were. "Even though he doesn't remember the real reason, he still hates you. He still thinks he can talk me into coming home, that you're no good for me, and you don't really love me." The last was emitted in a tiny hurt voice which made Gold see red.  _Bastard!_

          "Belle, I'm sorry he hurt you. When you said you didn't want to see him, I didn't push. I respected your wishes. I was going to do the right thing, gods forbid, and not stand in the way if you wanted to have a relationship with him. But he has no right to speak to you in such a way. I will  _not_  stand for it." He offered her his silk handkerchief, fuming that Moe had made her cry once again.

          "I know you love me, Rumpel. And my father is the last person I would ever let come between us. It's going to be so much worse when he finds out about our baby," she whispered as she leaned forward so they wouldn't be overheard. "The only reason I got upset over the van is because I'm worried about him not being able to hold onto the business. He may be cruel and not want to respect my wishes and my choices, but he is still my father."

          Gold was steadfast in his choice. "He hurt you, my Belle. I will not change my mind," he said, making it clear the subject was closed to further discussion and watching her snatch a fry off his plate. "Are you almost done? We don't want to be late for your prenatal appointment."

          Belle brightened, pushing thoughts of her torn relationship with her father to the far recesses of her mind. Smiling widely, she sing-songed, "We get to see the baby today!"

 

*.*.*

 

          Belle let her husband help her back onto the examination table and cover her with a sheet as they waited for the doctor. "Rumpel, I'm tired of being used for a bloody pin cushion and I've definitely had it with peeing in a cup."

          Gold held onto her hand and brushed a stray curl behind her ear. "It's all part of prenatal care, love. But if you like, the next time they come at you with a syringe, I'll loan you my cane, so you can whack the nurse," he teased with an impish grin. She was laughing as he leaned in for a quick kiss.

          They were having their first ultrasound today and Belle was nervous, not knowing what to expect since there was nothing like this in their world. While they waited on the doctor, he told her of his plans for the nursery and listened to her ideas as well. They would use the guest room across the hall from their bedroom, the same one in which she'd spent her first night home. He finally got her to relax, only to have that all blown to hell when an orderly wheeled in the ultrasound machine and left.

          "Don't be nervous, my Belle. Remember we looked up the procedure on the internet and you were fine with it. They're just going to smear some goop on you and take a picture of the baby," he said, trying to reassure her.

          "What if something's wrong with the baby?" she asked, worrying her bottom lip.

          "Nothing is wrong with the baby."

          "What if …" her anxious 'what ifs' came to an end as the doctor entered the room and looked over her chart.

          "Alright, Mrs. Gold, let's have a look, shall we? Mr. Gold, would you mind stepping outside for just a moment while I examine your wife?" Dr. Bryan asked, his heart in his throat. He really hated that the pawn broker had to accompany his wife to  _every_  visit. It was normal for a father-to-be to accompany the mother to her appointments, but Gold scared the hell out of him; it was as simple as that. But then, he scared everyone.

          "Yes, I mind. It's not exactly like we're strangers, Bryan," he snarked, caressing the handle of his cane.

          "Nicholas, behave," she admonished, covering the hand he had resting on his cane with one of her own, staying his hand from violence.

          "Okayyy," Bryan breathed out in a huff and proceeded to give her a pelvic exam, proclaiming everything to be fine. He measured her belly and told them she was right on schedule at fourteen weeks. It didn't help that Gold watched his every move with a narrow-eyed glare as if he was daring the doctor to give them bad news.

          Finally, he squeezed gel onto Belle's abdomen and turned on the ultrasound machine. "Let's see if we can get a good picture of the little one today." He looked at Gold first to ask, "Do you want to know the sex of your baby?"

          Gold looked at Belle, unsure. "Do we?"

          Belle thought about how unnatural all this seemed. In their world, she would have had to wait until she delivered to find out if it was a boy or a girl. "I think I would like to wait."

          Gold nodded at the doctor to proceed, hiding his disappointment. He was an impatient man, after all. He didn't like surprises, but he would respect Belle's wishes. Bryan took the transducer attached to the machine, punched several buttons and began to trace it over Belle's barely noticeable bump until a picture appeared on the screen.

          Belle squeezed her husband's hand, her eyes wide with uncertainty. "Why is the head so big? Is his head supposed to be so big? How am I supposed to deliver something that big?" she asked, her panic rising.

          "It is perfectly natural, Mrs. Gold. Your baby is developing normally, and I don't foresee any problems at this stage." He printed out several photocopies for the new parents and wiped the excess gel from her belly before leaving them alone for Belle to dress.

          "Nicholas, what if he gets stuck and they can't get him out?" she asked worriedly.

          Gold kissed her brow, surreptitiously wiping away the moisture gathering at the corner of his eyes. "She's not going to get stuck, my darling. She just has a big brain like her mama. I never expected anything less." His lips trailed down to her lips and pressed a tender kiss to the corner of her mouth, making her smile. "You know we're past the first trimester. You don't have to keep it a secret anymore."

          He helped her get off the exam table and watched her disappear behind a curtain to dress. "We might as well. Poor Jeff is bursting at the seams to be able to brag about his godchild. Once he sees the ultrasound pictures, there's going to be no containing him," she chuckled.

          "I'm going to go make your appointment for next month. Meet you at the front desk?" he asked, tucking the pictures into the inside breast pocket of his jacket and pulling on his coat. He left her to finish dressing and made his way to the front, his heart filled to bursting with the joy of his wife and unborn child.

 

*.*.*

 

          Gold dropped Belle off at the elementary school and drove to the house. It was going to snow that afternoon, he could feel it in his bad ankle and Belle had only worn her light jacket. He'd decided to stop in at the house before returning to the shop, to get a heavier coat for her and drop it off at the school so she could wear it when Mary Margaret drove her home. He was not expecting to climb the steps to the front porch and find the door unlocked and hanging open.

          He reached for his cell phone and punched in his wife's number. She answered on the fourth ring, probably busy with some activity in class. "I can't really talk right now, love."

          "Belle, did you come home at lunch before you met me at the diner and perhaps forget to shut and lock the door behind you?" he asked, warily pushing the door open with the tip of his cane, his eyes darting rapidly to take in the situation.

          "No, why? Is something wrong?" she asked, her voice no more than curious. "I distinctly remember locking up before I left."

          "I'll call you back," he said, dropping the phone back into his pocket. He edged his way around the door, leaving it open behind him and stepped into the living room, starting slightly when Emma appeared in the doorway to the parlor.

          "Gold?"

          "Well, who else would it be?" he snapped. "What brings you here, Sheriff Swan?"

          Emma re-holstered her gun at her hip and quirked a brow. "Neighbor saw the front door open and called it in."

          "Yes, it seems we've been robbed." He left her standing there, glancing about and noticing things which were missing, taking a mental inventory. The things in the main part of the house were of little worry to him. It was the library he was in a hurry to inspect. That was where his two most prized possessions were stored.

          "Where are you going, Gold? I have a few questions for you," Emma called after him, following behind his rapidly retreating form down the hall.

          He threw open the double doors leading into the library, his eyes immediately going to the mantle over the hearth where his chipped cup held a place of honor. He cursed and restrained himself from smashing the nearest lamp. This was Belle's sanctuary and he would  _not_ damage anything in that room. Thankfully, the burglar hadn't thought to touch the painting of Bae which Belle had given him for Christmas. She would have been more than upset ... at least more overwrought than she was already going to be. She would have wanted to hunt down the thief herself.

          Emma watched the anger wash over his features before he was able to replace it with a mask of controlled calm. "Any ideas on who might've done this?"

          "Yes," he hissed. "I have a perfect idea and I won't be needing your assistance."

          "Look, this is clearly a burglary, breaking and entering, and if you know who did this, you need to tell me. If you don't, I can bring you in for obstruction of justice and withholding information. You know all this, Gold. You're a lawyer."

          "Fine, Sheriff. I had an altercation with Moe French this morning. He defaulted on a loan and we had a disagreement over collateral," he huffed impatiently, eager to be on his way to handle his father-in-law in his own way … without police involvement. His way was much more satisfying. "I suggest checking his home for our missing items."

          "Wait … you collected collateral from Belle's dad? Seriously? He's family. Couldn't you have given him an extension?" she asked, incredulous.

          "Sheriff, I don't think my business dealings are an issue here."

          "Alright. I'll check him out. I'll let you know if I find him." She left Gold's house and got in the squad car, her gut churning with tension. It was never easy when the Golds were involved. And Mr. Gold was definitely a piece of work she'd rather stay far, far away from.

 

*.*.*

 

          It didn't take Sheriff Swan long to find the majority of the Golds’ valuables and call the pawn broker to come into the station to verify it. He was vastly disappointed his cup was not among the recovered property, knowing now, for certain, Regina was behind the robbery. She was the only one to know of its importance. Only she would have put his father-in-law up to such a stunt. He also knew Moe French, desperate to hang on to his little florist shop, couldn't pass up the biggest sales day of the year. He knew where the bastard was. His phone chirped, and he recognized the ring tone as Belle's. He hit the silent button and continued down the sidewalk, his direction taking him to the _Game of Thorns_ flower shop.

 

*.*.*

 

          Belle rolled her eyes as her phone chimed … again. The caller ID said it was Ruby. She collected the papers she was grading and told Mary Margaret she'd be just a moment. "Ruby, I'm in the middle …"

          "Belles, you've got to get to your dad's shop. Nick's there … fight … cane …" Ruby was shouting, the signal breaking up.

          "What about Nicholas?" Belle asked hurriedly, trying to make sense of her friend's frantic statement. "Ruby, you're breaking up."

          Mary Margaret raised her brows in a silent question.

          "Just get to the _Game of Thorns_. I mean motor your butt over there quick if you want to stop your husband from killing your dad," Ruby shouted over the phone and hung up.

 _God’s bones! What is Rumpelstiltskin doing at my dad's shop?_  "Mary Margaret, I've got to go. I'll call you tonight." She grabbed her purse and coat and sprinted out of the school, running as she pulled the coat over her shoulders, her hands doing up the buttons. She wrapped one arm around her middle and made haste to see if she could save her husband from spending the night in jail.

 

*.*.*

 

          Emma gaped at the sight of Belle Gold running down the sidewalk and slammed on the brakes, lurching forward in her seat. She watched the pawn broker's wife turn right as she slowly applied her foot to the accelerator, following her friend.  _What the hell could make Belle panic?_  The little woman was one of the most serene people she knew in this town. Nothing upset her … except her husband. And even then, she would come out on top of any altercation with him. So, it was more out of insane curiosity than anything else that she followed.

 

*.*.*

 

          Belle arrived at _Game of Thorns_ just seconds after Moe French and Nicholas Gold came crashing through the plate glass window, flowers raining down on them. Gold landed on his bad leg and yowled from the pain. Her father had a cut to his left cheek and his right eye was starting to color. They rolled among the strewn flowers like two five-year-old's in the school playground.

          There were shouts of _you bastard_ and _where the fuck is my cup, you useless tosser_ thrown about. Belle was afraid to get too close in the event they might roll towards her. She didn't need to take a tumble and get mixed up in that hot mess.

          Gold's hands closed over the florist's throat as he shouted, "Who told you to take it!"

          Moe was gasping for breath and a crowd was beginning to form. Moe looked to his right, his eyes locking with Belle's in an _I-told-you-so_ look as Emma got out of the squad car and tried to clear people out of her way. Gold took advantage and hit him again, this time in his mouth. He himself already had a split lip from a lucky punch Moe had landed.

          "Nicholas, stop. Nicholas!" Belle screamed to be heard over their cursing.

          Emma grabbed Gold's arm before he could land another blow and pulled him off Moe. "What the flaming hell is going on here?"

          Moe pulled himself to his feet, his beefy hands rubbing at his raw throat. "That monster tried to kill me, that's what happened. I want him arrested!"

          Belle wrapped her arm around his waist to steady him, holding his cane that she'd retrieved from the doorway safely out of his reach in her other hand. "Nicholas, what is this about?" she asked softly. An angry tone wasn't going to help, would only fuel his rage. His lips were pulled back over his clenched teeth and he looked like he was ready to have another go at her father. "Rumpel," she whispered close to his ear and felt his shoulders relax a bit.

          Gold looked down at her and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, leaning lightly against her to keep his balance. "Your father stole from us, love. He broke into our home and …" His eyes met hers, pleading for her understanding. "He took my cup." He didn't have to tell her  _which_  cup.

          "He didn't!"

          Gold nodded. Belle handed him the cane and stalked angrily over to her father. "How could you do such a thing?! All this over your precious van?!" she railed at him. "It's your own fault if you can't manage your money and pay your blasted bills on time!"

          Emma produced two pairs of handcuffs and arrested them both for disturbing the peace, making a public disturbance and several other things Belle couldn't recall. Theft and breaking and entering were added to Moe’s crimes. Belle was livid as she watched her husband being shunted into the back of the squad car. "So, I guess you'll be down at the station later?" Emma asked Belle as she shut the rear door.

          Belle sighed wearily and rubbed a hand over her eyes. "Yeah, I'll be down as soon as I go home to collect my checkbook. Keep those two separated."

          "Don't worry. What's with them anyway?" Emma asked, climbing into the driver's seat.

          "You'd never understand, Emma. Let's just say my father is a difficult man to love." Belle turned on her heel in time to see Mary Margaret drive up, having come over directly after school let out. She offered Belle a lift to her house and then to the station to sort out the two very different men in her life.

 

*.*.*

 

          A wall of bars separated the two men as they sat there glaring at each other. Emma had just dropped into the chair in her office with a warning for them to behave when Belle hurried into the room. Gold pushed himself up from the cot and stuck his hands through the bars of the cell door, taking Belle's face between them to assure himself she was alright.

          "Nicholas, I don't even know what to say to you right now," she said, kissing him tenderly through the bars. Her father made a disgusted sound in the back of his throat, making her glare angrily at him. "And as for you!" she hissed, her voice carrying loudly back to Emma who was craning her neck to see what was happening.

          "Me? It was his fault," Moe said defensively. "He started it."

          "So, you  _didn't_  break into our home and rob us?"

          "Well …"

          "Shut it, Papa!"

          "Belle …" Gold called softly, drawing her attention back to his side of the cell.

          "You, too, Nicholas."

          Belle moved to a desk and perched atop it, so she could glare at them both while she decided what she wanted to do. "Emma?"

          "Yeah?" the sheriff asked warily, never having seen such a calculating look in Belle's eyes before.

          "I propose we make a deal," she said, raising a brow at Gold as his eyes widened in surprise.

          "What kind of deal?" Emma asked, coming around to stand beside the much shorter woman.

          "I think we should take a statement from each of them and keep it on file. Let them off with a warning and if they step one toe out of line, haul them back in here where they can rot," Belle offered, her mouth drawing into a smirk. Gold was sneering, not liking the idea one bit. She mouthed _trust me_ and he relaxed just the tiniest bit.

          "I don't know."

          "Just think of the time that will be wasted hauling them before a judge, which you won't be able to do until tomorrow morning at the earliest. You'll have to spend the night at the station to make sure they behave because they'll be locked up. Instead, with a little paperwork they'll be free to go."

          Moe pointed a stubby finger at his son-in-law. "Oh, no. I'm not letting him get away with this."

          "Oh, yes you will, Papa. Otherwise I will press charges against you for your thievery," Belle warned, glaring at him through the bars.

          Emma shook her head and moved over to Moe's cell, unlocking the door. "If you'll follow me, we can go down the hall and take your statement," she shook her head, heading for the door. Belle reached up and grabbed her father's left ear, dragging him from the room as he yowled, and Gold's laughter ringing after them.

 

*.*.*

 

          Gold reclined on his bunk, marveling over his Belle’s tenacity. He would forever think back with amusement over his darling wife dragging her father from the room by his ear. His chuckles died down into nothing, a frown marring his face, as he heard that voice he'd come to loathe.

          "I am so very sorry I missed your little adventure at the flower shop, Gold," Regina sneered with her honey-sweet viper's tongue.

          Gold sat up and gave her a scathing glance. He'd been waiting for her to show up and confirm his suspicions. "You must really have wanted that little chat, hmm?"

          Regina sauntered forward, edging closer to the cell. "And, apparently, this was the only way I was going to get it."

          Gold gestured to the sofa set under the windows next to his cell, vaguely disturbed Belle was somewhere in the building. He didn't want his beloved anywhere near the vicious mayor. " _Please …_ sit," he snapped, watching the smile slip from her ruby painted lips as she was forced to obey his softly uttered command.

          Regina perched gingerly on the arm of the sofa, so she was face to face with him, the bars of his cell the only thing separating them. "Now when two people both want something the other has, a deal can always be struck," he snarled coldly, folding his hands on his lap. "Do you have what I want?"

          "Yes," she said succinctly, her lips forming the word with pleasure, taunting him.

          With that one word, his suspicions were confirmed, and he drew back, fighting to keep the anger from his blank mask. He kept his eyes on Regina, stopping his gaze from wandering to Belle as she slipped into Emma's office to watch unnoticed as he squared off against the queen. "So, you did put him up to it then." He could feel the rage beginning to build in Belle.

          "I merely suggested that strong men take what they need," Regina smirked, lifting her chin in haughty defiance.

          "Oh, and you told him just exactly what to take, didn't you?"

          Regina blew off his question. "We used to know each other so well, Mr. Gold. Has it really come down to this?"

          "It seems it has, yeah. Now you know what I want. What is it you want?" he asked, eyeing her with his cold gaze and wishing nothing more than to reach through the bars and choke the life from her.

          "I want you to answer one question. And answer it simply. What's your name?" she asked softly, leaning forward the tiniest bit so as not to miss his answer.

          "It's Mr. Gold," he scoffed at her question. He knew exactly what she wanted. Not so much his name, but whether or not he remembered.

          "Your real name," Regina insisted. Belle was shaking her head frantically, trying to say without words he shouldn't give up their advantage.

          "Every moment I've spent on this earth, that's been my name."

          Regina continued to play her little game. "But what about moments spent elsewhere?"

          Belle removed her shoes and crept on her stockinged feet to stand silently several feet from where Regina sat. The queen was so focused on getting what she wanted from Gold, she didn't sense her.

          "What are you asking me?" he asked, toying with her.

          "I think you know." A light of avarice lit her eyes as she leaned forward. "If you want me to return what's yours, tell me your name," she demanded.

          Belle closed the remaining distance between them and delved her hand quickly into Regina's purse, her hand closing tightly around Gold's cup. Regina shrieked in outrage, her hand grasping for the cup as Belle danced out of reach and slipped the object through the bars and into her husband's waiting hands.

          Belle pinned Regina with an amused stare. "Curses! Foiled again, eh, Madam Mayor? Perhaps we might get you on a charge for collusion. Since you just admitted setting my father up and all," she said snidely, crossing her arms over her chest. Her husband really was rubbing off on her.

          "Or we could just forget the entire matter and go on as we have, dear," Gold offered, his smiling lips making Regina see red as he draped an arm through the bars and around Belle's shoulders.

          "I know you know, Gold."

          Belle sneered at her, her eyes flashing with hate for the queen. "Prove it."

          Gold waited until Regina’s angry stride faded down the hall and then kissed Belle through the bars. "I love you, my sneaky wife."

          "I love you, too, darling. Happy Valentine's day."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: No Jefferson this chapter, but he'll be back soon. Hope you liked my spin on the Storybrooke side of the Skin Deep episode. Hope you all are still enjoying the story. Thanks so much for sticking with me. I know I have my moments when ya'll would like to choke me. Thanks so much for all the reviews. I'm looking forward to hearing what you think.


	42. Chapter 42

          Gold stood in stunned silence at the frightening sight in his living room, before slowly backing away into the hall. He moved as though trying not to startle a dragon sleeping around a clutch of eggs. How the hell had this happened without his knowledge? Once he'd gained the safety of the kitchen, he dug in the pocket of his suit jacket and sent Jefferson a text. Surely the hatter would know what to do. Right?

_I just got home and walked into the seventh circle of hell!_

          It didn't take long for the hatter to respond.  _It can't be as bad as all that unless … is the house on fire?!_

_No idiot! My wife, Emma, Mary Margaret and the wolf girl … Red? Ruby! They've converged on the living room. The three of them are all wrapped around Miss Blanchard and weeping. Tissues are everywhere, hatter. How am I supposed to deal with four weeping women? I can barely handle it when Belle has one of her fits!_

_What happened to the big bad Dark One? Surely, he can handle a weeping session between your wife and her closest friends._

_Snails, hatter! I called you for advice … I'm certain I will pay for that one later … not for you to mock me. Do you have anything to offer, or are you just going to continue to piss me off?_

_Do you have any ice cream in the house? According to some of these TV programs Grace likes to watch, women who are upset love to wallow in a bowl of frozen goodness._

          Gold frowned at the phone and re-read the message, thinking his friend was certifiable. He shrugged and limped over to the freezer, quietly opening the door and peering inside. He closed the door.

_We've got plenty._

_Alright, here's the plan. Very quietly, scoop them up a dish and bring it in to them. But you have to approach them very cautiously, Nick. Use a sympathetic tone and give them the peace offering. Don't get offended if they get rather sarcastic and snarky, just ignore it. Remember you're a man and therefore the enemy and that no matter what you say, it will be the wrong thing…_

_Do I have to? What if this doesn't work?_

_Just give them the damn ice cream and run! Or you can just leave them to it and come hide out at my place_

          Gold hung up the phone and went to the cupboard for spoons and bowls and a tray to put them on. One of these days he was going to learn not to take advice from the Mad Hatter. He'd made one too many hats over the last twenty-eight years. His cane made a soft tapping on the hardwood floor as he made his way slowly and cautiously into the living room.

          "Belle, love?" he asked softly, eyeing her warily.

          Belle untangled herself from her cluster of friends and took the tray from her husband, setting it down on the coffee table. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down for a warm hug. "I love you, Rumpel. Thank you for the ice cream and for being so considerate."

          He rubbed her back, happy she couldn't see his mouth gape open over her shoulder, his eyes going wide with surprise. "Everything alright, dearest?" he asked, offering his silk handkerchief to her.

          "We'll talk later," she promised and returned to her place on the sofa next to Mary Margaret. Emma and Ruby were trying not to glare at him as he turned to leave the room, as if he were somehow responsible for the emotional upheaval prevalent in the room. He shook his head as he locked himself in the study, thinking the only thing they were missing was one of Belle's sappy romantic movies where the heroine ends up dying. He shuddered, praying he wouldn't have to watch one this weekend and hoping he hadn't jinxed himself by allowing the thought. Crying females did not belong in the lair of the Dark One.

 

*.*.*

 

          Gold mumbled groggily as Belle crawled beneath the covers and pressed herself into his back, her arm slipping under his to wrap about his chest. He squinted at the clock on the nightstand as she sighed into his neck. "It's rather late, sweetheart," he murmured, lifting her hand and kissing her fingertips before replacing it back against his chest. "Everything alright?"

          "Charm—David Nolan broke Mary Margaret's heart … again," she sighed wearily, wiggling until she could find a comfortable position. "He finally told his wife he wanted a divorce, but he didn't tell Kathryn about the affair he was having with Mary Margaret. Instead, he lied that they were just at different places in their lives and it wasn't working out. Then somehow - and I'm sure we can guess how - Kathryn found out the truth and confronted Mary Margaret at the school, called her a homewrecker and a tramp and … oh, Rumpel, it was a bloody nightmare."

          Gold smirked against his pillow. "Well, love, Charming never was the brightest apple on the tree … pardon the metaphor," he said when she tweaked his ear. "Besides, under the curse, they're not supposed to be happy. That's the entire reason Regina wanted to enact it in the first place. Regina is the only one who is supposed to be happy … although looking at her life, I wouldn't call that happy."

          They were both quiet for a moment before Belle sighed, slowly scraping her nails distractedly across his bare chest. "David shouldn't have lied. He should have just told Kathryn the truth about the affair. Of course, it would have caused a scandal, but, Rumpel, they could have healed and moved on into a decent relationship. Why couldn't he have just been honest?"

          Gold rolled over and wrapped her in his embrace, searching her face in the semi-darkness, only the muted light of the street lamps lighting the room with its soft glow, just enough to make out her sad smile. "I don't know, dearest. Apparently, he was trying to weasel his way out of a bad situation without casting himself in a worse light. He was trying to take the easy way out instead of being honest."

          Belle raised a sardonic brow, a smirk curving her lips. "Reminds me of a certain imp I know," she chuckled dryly.

          "Just what are you alluding to, dearie?"

          "Oh, just how you tried to take the easy way out yourself when you returned me to Avonlea. You were terrified when you found out I was in love with you and instead of admitting your feelings, you decided to run from them. It's a man thing," she retorted, harboring no ill feelings about their past and burrowing deeper against her husband.

          "I was a fool. I freely admit it," he confessed. It had been one of the worst mistakes he'd ever made in his very long life and was just grateful she had returned to him. He felt pity for the broken lovers, knowing all too well the pain of losing love.

          Belle carded her hand through his hair, tugging gently on the ends and scraping her nails lightly against his nape. "The girls were very impressed with your actions this evening. They thought you very understanding." She trailed kisses along his jaw and settled her face against his neck with a loud yawn. "You called Jefferson, didn't you?"

          He flushed guiltily. "I may have asked the hatter for a wee bit of advice. At least I didn't panic and return to the shop." How did she always know?

          "I just hate it that Mary Margaret has come out of this looking as though she deliberately tried to ruin his marriage. Everyone is being so horrible to her. And I know it was Regina who vandalized her car. It would be just like her to pull a stunt like that," she fumed.

          "Miss Blanchard will be fine. She's got three of the strongest women in Storybrooke to stand behind her and support her. People will come around eventually," he assured her, his words slurring as he felt the pull of sleep once more.

          It made her feel good that he had so much faith in her and her friends. She kissed his throat and tightened her arms around him. "I love you, Rumpel. Sleep well, my love," she whispered sleepily. He didn't hear her as his breathing evened out and turned into soft snores muffled by her hair.

 

*.*.*

 

          The next morning was cold, the coldest March Storybrooke had seen in many years. It also found two very disgruntled visitors to Gold's pawn shop rather hastily tossed from the premises out into the snow … and not by the feared monster who owned ninety percent of the town, but his wife. Her hair was flowing down her back in soft ringlets which looked like they hadn't seen a hairbrush that morning, and she was clad only in her fur-lined boots and a long black coat which looked like it belonged to Gold.

          Nicholas stood behind the counter, his hand poised over the object he'd been about to wrap for Mrs. Shoemacher, his eyes wide and disbelieving, a look which rarely passed the man's face, as he wondered what could have come over his usually good-natured wife. She was kind to everyone and he couldn't fathom her rudeness. "Um … Belle, my darling … are you alright?"

          She flipped the placard hanging in the window to CLOSED and whirled around to face him, her lips turning up into a feral smile.  _Holy gods!_  he thought, swallowing nervously around the breathless excitement curling in his stomach. He knew  _that_  look … he'd worn it himself on more than one occasion after a particularly favorable deal. She looked positively evil and it just made his heart pound faster as desire for her built in his loins.

          She didn't stop on her trek to the back room, pausing just long enough to grab a handful of his silk tie to drag him along behind her, which he was all too willing to oblige. Before the curtain could fall closed behind them, her mouth was on his, hungry and demanding, her hands roaming, grasping, and fidgeting with his belt. "Why, Mrs. Gold, whatever has come over you this morning?" he asked teasingly, his breathing labored as his own hands worked the buttons open on her coat.

          She pushed his jacket off his shoulders to land on the floor at their feet. "Hormones … need you … _now_ ," she demanded, delving one hand into his hair and using the other to work on the buttons of his waistcoat. She was glad they both kept a change of clothes at the shop for emergencies, because they'd be lucky to ever find his shirt buttons again in this lifetime.

          "Belle! You're stark naked under this coat!" he growled as she bit his shoulder, guiding him steadily back to his desk chair and pushing him down into it, now just as bare as she.

          Her grin was wicked, and her eyes were dark with desire and need as she climbed onto his lap and took him in hand, guiding him into her. A low keen of pleasure ripped from her throat as she ground down against him, fully sheathing him within her heat. "Shut up, Rumpel, and just touch me. Please, love." She whimpered as he thrust up into her. "Oh, gods, you feel amazing!"

          He wrapped an arm around her waist steadying her, the other going to her breast to tease her nipple, his lips covering the other and drawing her into the hot recesses of his mouth, sucking hard and then grazing her with his sharp teeth. He worshiped her with his touch as she rode him. If this was a side effect of her pregnancy, he hoped it remained after they had the baby. She was a live bundle of energy and passion in his arms and it just made him harder and more aroused as he thrust into her. He could feel her walls begin to flutter around his cock as she moved faster, quickening her pace, and he knew he wouldn't last much longer.

          "Rumpel …" she cried, her breath catching in her throat as he reached between them and gave her clit a sharp twist. She tugged his hair painfully as she screamed and ground herself against him, her nails digging into his nape as she found her release. He growled against her neck as he bit down on the sensitive flesh and spilled his seed in her, his fingers digging into her hips as she collapsed against him.

          He trailed his fingers through her hair as his breathing returned to normal, his other hand tracing soothing circles on her hip with his nails. "What the hell was that, dearest?" he asked, nibbling lightly at her bottom lip.

          "Well … um … I woke up this morning in a particularly lusty mood and you … ah … weren't there …"

          "So, you thought to find me to help you with your little problem?" he asked, smiling against her lips.

          "Exactly," she giggled, unable to hold her laughter in any longer. She froze as she heard the bell over the front door chime, the color draining from her face. "Oh, gods! I forgot to lock the door," she hissed in a frightened whisper.

          "Gold, you here?" Emma called from the front of the shop.

          "Shit!" they hissed quietly in unison. Then Gold, still cradling his wife against his chest, said loudly, his voice carrying through the curtain, "Now's not the best time, Miss Swan. Perhaps you could come back later."

          "Well, too bad because I have a few quest —" Emma said, poking her head through the curtain and gaping wide-eyed at the couple. Belle bit her lip and gave Emma a small wave. Gold grinned wolfishly and quirked a brow at the sheriff. Emma backed away from the curtain with a groan. "Oh, my God! Would you two put some clothes on? I'm going to have to bleach my eyes now and then I doubt I'll ever be able to get rid of the mental image. There are hotel rooms and the backseat of cars and better yet … your  _house_  to do that in!"

          Gold only laughed harder as he ducked into the washroom at the back of his shop to clean himself up before donning a fresh suit and joining her up front.

          "Well, Sheriff Swan," he began, a satisfied smirk planted on his face, his eyes dancing with mirth. "What can I do for you today?"

          The color was still high in Emma's cheeks, and she was finding it hard to meet his gaze. "Kathryn Nolan's car was found near the town line, off in the ditch. I was wondering if maybe you had seen her this morning."

          Belle came out of the back room, adjusting her skirt and frowning at the snugness in the waist. "Nicholas, I'm going to have to start shopping for maternity dresses soon. My clothes are getting tight," she murmured, kissing his cheek as she came to stand next to him. Then it dawned on her that she’d inadvertently spilled the beans to Emma.

          "Wait! You're pregnant?" Emma asked, smiling at her friend.

          "Yes, we are," Gold answered proudly.

          "And I take it this is a good thing?" Emma asked to make certain.

          "Yes, Emma, it's wonderful," Belle gushed, beaming and accepting a warm hug from her friend. Gold raised a brow to match Emma's as if to warn her off.

          "Well, congratulations. Uh … have you told Mary Margaret?"

          "We haven't told anyone except Jefferson. Soon, I won't be able to hide it," Belle replied, lifting the hem of her blouse to show Emma the small baby bump. "We just didn't want to draw the mayor's attention. You know how much she hates Nicholas and would love nothing better than to make his life miserable. Why give her ammunition?"

          "Sheriff, you were saying something about Mrs. Nolan, were you not?" Gold interrupted, knowing Belle could talk to Emma for hours about the baby and her pregnancy and her hormones and the list which never ended.

          Belle frowned, a little crease forming between her brows. "What about Kathryn? Is she giving Mary Margaret a hard time again?" she asked, going into protective mode.

          "No, nothing like that, I'm afraid. We found her car abandoned in a ditch near the town line. She's missing, and I've been going around asking if anyone has seen or heard from her," Emma explained.

          Gold shrugged. "Well, I can assure you we haven't seen Mrs. Nolan this morning. But if we do, I'll be sure to give you a call."

          "Alright, you two." She chuckled softly and leaned in to whisper in Belle's ear before she left the shop. "Learn to lock. The. Door."

 

*.*.*

 

_Stop by The Mandarin Garden and pick up some moo shoo pork, teriyaki chicken … and make sure they're not chincy with the pineapple … some hot and spicy shrimp lo mein, pork fried rice, sesame chicken … oh, and Henry wants a cup of egg drop soup … and that wonderful veggie stir fry. Love you!_

          He read the text out to Mr. Wong to place his order and waited. Belle had been so busy with helping Mary Margaret as her teacher's assistant and volunteering to help with the upcoming Miner's Day festival she'd been relying more and more on take out cuisine. He thought it had more to do with her strange cravings. Today at lunch it had been onion rings and hot sauce. Yesterday it had been dill pickles and salt. He shuddered in revulsion and prayed she never asked him to join in on one of her snacks.

          Gold paid for the meal and took the large bag, arriving home at his usual six thirty deadline. He could remember keeping the shop open till nine every night before he'd woken from the curse and found his Belle. Now he preferred to spend his evenings at home with his wife. He closed the front door behind him and listened, his ears perking up for the sound of his precious Belle and where she might be in their large home.

          The sounds of giggling children and the melodious tones of Belle's voice as she sang along to the radio drew him to the kitchen. Paige and Henry sat at the kitchen table with a piping bag full of frosting in their hands, decorating the cookies littering every surface. "Belle, love, what are you doing with the baked goods? Are you opening a bakery and just forgot to mention it?"

          "No, darling," she retorted, wiping her cheek with a floury hand and leaving a dusting of the powdery substance on her face. "I'm manning the stall at the festival for the elementary school. We're having a bake sale. And I think Mary Margaret might be just a wee bit peeved at me."

          "How so?" he asked, moving a cooling rack full of sugar cookies to the table next to a bowl of frosting and setting the take out on the counter. He began filling plates for the children and sent them off into the dining room to eat.

          "She wanted me to help her with the booth she's volunteered for selling candles for the convent," she told him, her lips pressing into a straight line of tension.

          "Sweetheart, she doesn't understand your reasons for not wanting to help and it's not as though you can tell her. If you could confide in her, I'm certain she would understand," he said, moving to stand behind her and wrapping his arms around her waist, his hand rubbing gently against the small swelling of her belly.

          "I hate that I can't help her, Rumpel, but I just can't bring myself to be around  _that woman_. Even in this land she's sanctimonious and self-righteous. She's always looking at me with pity because I'm married to the town monster. She's more of a monster than you ever were even at your worst," she hissed, pounding viciously at the cookie dough she was kneading. Gold was just glad she had an outlet for her frustrations.

          He pulled her hands out of the dough and led her over to the sink to wash, deciding a change of subject was in order. The evening was going to be fun, a picture of domesticity making cookies with the children and he didn't want it spoiled by memories of her time in captivity. "Come on, sweetheart, let's have dinner and get back to the art of cookie making. I will even help you man the booth tomorrow."

          She giggled, trying to picture him selling cookies in a booth. "Darling, as much as I would love to have your help, you would scare off any potential sales with your mere presence," she said dryly.

          He handed her a plate of take-out Chinese food and led her into the dining room, a wry smirk curving his lips. "Some things will never change, love, no matter how much you wish otherwise."

          She took her seat to his right and smiled. "They just don't know you like I do, love."

 

*.*.*

 

          Gold, Henry and Paige loaded the last of the baked goods into the trunk of his Cadillac and closed the boot up, hoping the cookies, brownies and assorted confections made it to the center of town without mishap. Belle was standing on the front porch, locking up and making sure Paige and Henry had their sleepover backpacks loaded in the car so they could drop them at their respective homes before heading to the festival to set up their booth. Mary Margaret had stopped by to make one more plea to her friend to help with her own booth.

          "Please, Belle, I'm begging. Emma is swamped trying to find Kathryn, Ruby is working until six and everyone else who signed up on the volunteer list has backed out on me because of …" her voice trailed off as she thought about the nasty looks and snide comments she'd been experiencing the last couple of days.

          "I can't, Mary Margaret. If you were manning any other booth, it would be fine. You know I would be there to help, but not for the nuns," Belle insisted, linking her arm with her friend's and guiding her down the porch steps.

          "What do you have against nuns? I mean … they're nuns!" Mary Margaret exclaimed, puzzled.

          Belle sighed in frustration. "I'm sorry, Mary Margaret. And I wish you the best of luck, but I have my own booth to work." She hugged the teacher warmly and made her way to the car where Gold and the children were waiting for her. She felt sorry for her friend and the problems her affair with David had caused, but she would not bend on this.

 

*.*.*

 

          Gold sat on a bench in full view of Belle's booth as he sipped on a to-go cup full of spiced tea Belle had fetched for him not so long ago. He'd spent the better part of the evening watching her and the children man the booth and sell their assortment of baked goods, trying to raise money for the elementary school. It wouldn't be much longer before they were completely sold out. The children and their precocious smiles and carefree personalities drew in the crowd and Belle's talent for baking kept them coming back for more.

          Every now and then she would send Paige over with a cookie for him, something to snack on for sacrificing his day to keep an eye on them. His Belle would look up and smile at him or send him a wink or a blown kiss and he couldn't help but smile. Of course, he wouldn't be caught dead blowing kisses at his wife in public, as she very well knew, but he appreciated the gesture regardless.

          So, concentrated on his delightful view of his precious wife, he was somewhat surprised to find someone sitting down beside him. Only three people in all of Storybrooke would dare be so bold. The mayor, who knew better than to sit with him, Jefferson, who would be more than welcome being a friend, and their lovely savior.

          "What're you doing over here all by yourself instead of over there with Belle?" Emma asked as she took a bite of her brownie and sighed with chocolaty delight.

          Gold sipped his tea, never taking his eyes off Belle as she served another customer. Next year, he would have to get her to serve hot chocolate as well, therefore doubling her profits. "She's afraid I might scare away all her business seeing as I tend to intimidate people." He flashed her a wolfish grin.

          "I never would have guessed."

          "Any luck with your investigation?" he asked, casually trying to pick her for information.

          Emma eyed him cautiously. "You know I can't tell you anything, Gold."

          "I was merely asking as a concerned citizen, Sheriff Swan," he told her, watching Belle place a sign on the booth which read SOLD OUT. Wonderful, he thought, they'd be able to go home soon and sit by the fire. He was becoming chilled the later the hour grew and he worried for his little dearie.

          "Well," Emma said, hesitating. "I'm waiting on a call. She hasn't been seen and we're digging into her phone records to see who might've been the last person she had contact with."

          He rose to his feet, pitching his cup in a nearby rubbish bin and turning to meet her gaze. "Tread carefully, Miss Swan." He leaned both hands on the handle of his cane and lowered his voice. "Beware the Evil Queen, dearie. She's more than what she seems and will do her damnedest to thwart you at every turn."

          Before she could answer, her phone buzzed, and she answered, her eyes alight with anticipation. "Hey, Sydney, what've you got?" she asked, ignoring the surprise on Gold's face. She listened intently for a moment and then rose to her feet, her eyes scanning the crowd.

          In a show of sparks, the transformer blew and plunged the crowd into darkness. Gold scowled and turned to find Belle in the gloom, satisfied she was still at her booth packing up her things and readying to go home. He watched her with a pleased grin as she removed a small flashlight from her purse and switched it on. Everyone else was flocking to Mary Margaret's booth to purchase the candles made by the nuns.

          "I wonder what happened." Emma murmured more to herself than to Gold. "Now I'm going to have to deal with this on top of everything else." Her hunch had been confirmed about the phone records and she needed to have a chat with David Nolan. She didn't want to have to deal with Regina tonight as well over a blown transformer. She needed a drink … and some Advil. "I'll see you around, Gold. Tell Belle the brownies are wonderful."

          "I will, Sheriff. And do remember what I said about Regina." He watched her slip into the crowd and stop beside David Nolan before leading him over to her squad car.

          Belle slipped her hand into his and watched the newest turn of events. "What's going on, love? Is she arresting Charming?"

          "I don't think so. More like bringing him in for questioning," he said, his mind whirling and grinding, trying to fit the puzzle pieces together which would bring a scheme, no doubt Regina's, into a clearer picture. He made sure Henry found his mother and Belle thanked him for all his help. She even thanked Regina for letting the boy sleep over at their home, assuring the mayor her son would get extra credit for his participation in the fundraiser. Paige hugged her godparents and skipped off to join her father. Gold bundled Belle into the car and drove home, his mind still on Emma's dilemma and how he would be able to help her without Regina being any wiser.


	43. Chapter 43

          "Holy puking fairies! Tell me someone isn't delusional enough to be ringing our doorbell at," he cursed, looking over at the digital alarm clock on the nightstand, "seven sixteen a.m. on a Saturday morning!" he growled into his pillow just before he pulled it over his head.

          Belle ran her icy foot up inside the leg of his pajama bottoms and pressed it to his calf. She hadn't seen him move that fast since their days at the Dark Castle. "Go see who it is and thoroughly hex them, love," she murmured, stealing his pillow and rolling over, disappearing beneath the quilt and blanket piled atop the bed to ward off the chill.

          Gold scowled over his shoulder at the prone form of his beloved and grumbled irritably as he pulled on his robe over his pajamas, the bottoms covered in green shamrocks. He tried smoothing his hair down as he caught sight of his reflection in the hall mirror, not wanting to give the caller ammunition for the gossip mill. How he looked fresh out of bed was no one's business except Belle's, and she happened to like his tousled state.

          He threw back the locks, prepared to wound with his blackest glare and pulled the door open, his mouth open to let forth his acerbic wit. He froze, his brow furrowing in confusion. Ruby Lucas stood on his doorstep, suitcase in hand and barely able to hold back the flood of tears which threatened in her lovely hazel eyes.  _Fuck! He could not deal with another weeping session this early in the morning._ He ran a hand down his long face and tried to clear the last remnants of sleep from his befuddled brain.

          "Come on in out of the cold, dearie," he sighed, sweeping his arm back to allow her entrance. She hesitated and glanced over his shoulder hopefully.

          Her lower lip trembled, definitely not a good sign, he thought in defeat. "I am so sorry to bother you, Mr. Gold, but is B-Belle home?" she asked, twirling one dyed streak of her hair around her finger in an attempt to hide her nervousness.

          "Let me get you a cup of tea, Miss Lucas, and then I'll go fetch the beast from her lair," he snarked dryly, coaxing her inside and closing the door behind her. He led her down the hall, taking her suitcase and coat and depositing them in the closet. He filled the kettle with water and left her in the kitchen to return to his bedroom. Soft snores met his ears, Belle having drifted back to sleep.

          He sat down beside her and rubbed his knuckles along her spine. "Sweetheart, Miss Lucas is in the kitchen and she's very distraught. I think you need to come downstairs and see to her."

          Belle rolled over and stretched, groaning as her neck gave a sharp pop. "She had better not be here because of some hare-brained scheme of Mary Margaret's to volunteer us for another project. I am taking the day off," she growled as she threw her legs over the side of the bed.

          "Put your slippers on, dearest. The floor is cold," he said, yawning and eyeing his pillow with longing.

          "Yes, mommy. I have to go potty. Would you like to come hold my hand?" she grumbled on the way to the bathroom.

          Gold raised a brow at her cheek. "Someone's got their knickers in a twist this morning. Perils of sleeping with a beast, no doubt."

          "Not in the mood, Rumpel," she hissed through the door.

          He left her and returned to the kitchen, the kettle whistling on the stove. He eyed Ruby as she sat on the stool at the island, her shoulders drooping in despair. "Are you alright, my dear?" he asked, pouring her a cup of tea and setting out milk, sugar, honey and lemon so she could prepare it to her liking. Belle's had already been prepared to her specifications when she finally strolled miserably into the kitchen and kissed her husband on the cheek, her way of apologizing for being a snarky-mouthed pregnant woman first thing in the morning and taking it out on him.

          Belle took a sip of her tea and willed her sleep-deprived eyes to focus on her friend over the rim of her cup. "Dear gods, Ruby, what happened?"

          Gold handed the girl a box of tissues from the counter behind him. Seeing the sympathy in Belle's concerned blue gaze caused the dam to break. "I had a fight with Granny this morning."

          "Ruby, you always fight with Granny," Belle reasoned, pushing the hair out of her face as she waited for her friend to explain further.

          "It was bad, Belles, and I kind of quit my job."

          Belle's eyes widened incredulously. "You didn't."

          "I did and now I have no job and no place to stay and I'm thinking of going to Boston to maybe figure out some things," she said morosely, very unsure of what her next step would be.

          "No!" Belle yelped, setting her cup down and wrapping Ruby in a comforting hug. "You don't want to leave Storybrooke. You need to stay and work things out where you have people to help you. People who love and support you." Ruby cried harder against Belle's shoulder.

          At the influx of tears, Gold began hedging towards the exit, taking his tea with him. He'd never wished more for his power where he could just poof out of sight, leaving the women to bawl in peace. Belle's next words froze him in place.

          "You can stay here with us for a few days until we can plan your next move."

          Ruby's eyes widened. "No, I couldn't possibly impose on you guys," she protested. Belle's eyes narrowed threateningly on her husband as he opened his mouth to give his opinion on having a houseguest. He sent her a pleading look. She ignored it. All this behind Ruby's back.

          "You can, and you will. It's not an imposition. Come on and I'll show you to the guest room," Belle said, leading her out of the room. Gold stood there in disbelief that he'd been so thoroughly overruled in his own house and wondered if maybe the hatter would put him up for a few days.

 

*.*.*

 

          Gold sat back against the red vinyl booth and clenched his jaw tightly to keep from saying something he would later regret as his true love glared at him from across the table. Emma had hired their new houseguest to work at the sheriff's station part-time to help ease her workload. The Kathryn Nolan case was taking up the majority of her time, so Ruby was helping out with light paperwork and answering the phones. Her absence from the diner made it eerily quiet, the constant arguments with her grandmother leaving a quiet calm behind which was just unnatural. They'd finally found David Nolan that afternoon unconscious in the woods with no memory of how he'd gotten there. More of Regina's machinations and scheming, he was sure of it.

          "Nicholas, you haven't heard a word I've said," Belle griped, popping him gently on the back of his hand with her spoon.

          He smiled faintly at her and snatched the spoon, dipping it into the sundae they were sharing. "Of course, I did, dearest. You were grousing over Ruby leaving the downstairs bathroom in a shambles and I was politely refraining from saying I-told-you-so." He grinned widely around the spoon in his mouth as she scowled at him.

          "You're just irritated Ruby won't tell you any details of Emma's investigation because you just can't stand to be kept in the dark," she said with a satisfied smirk. Her face fell, and her eyes widened in alarm, instantly putting her husband on alert as the door of the diner slammed open. Moe French stood in the doorway, his eyes falling on his daughter with unbridled fury.

          "Were you even going to tell me?!" he blustered angrily, pointing a stubby finger at her. "I had to hear it from one of my customers that you're pregnant with his devil's spawn."

          Belle clambered out of the booth in time to step between her father and Gold, who had risen with a vicious snarl, his cane raised threateningly in his hand. "How dare you speak to my wife that way!"

          "Papa, stop!" she hissed, placing a palm to his chest to make him step back. "This doesn't concern you. And Nicholas, you, too. We cannot afford for Emma to drag you both back down to the station."

          "How can you say my own grandchild is not my concern?" the florist fumed at his daughter.

          "How can I say that? Because you don't want to have anything to do with me unless you think I've done something wrong. You have always disapproved of my marriage to Nicholas. You never wanted to give us the chance to be happy. You even went so far as to have me locked up to keep us apart. The worst of all was telling him I'd died, Papa. I will not have you spewing your venom anywhere near our child, so I didn't think I needed to share the news with you."

          Maurice turned another shade of puce at her defense of her husband. "I always did what I thought was best by you, Belle. He's somehow convinced you that you can't do any better. He keeps you shut up in that house and doesn't let you see your family …"

          "I have never kept Belle from doing  _anything_  she wants to do. If she doesn't want to have anything to do with you, maybe you should look in the mirror and ask  _yourself_  why," Gold shouted from behind her, his rage barely held in check.

          Two couples eyed the threesome warily as they made their exit, not wanting to be anywhere near the violent men if they came to blows again. Sydney Glass sat in a corner by the window writing furiously in a pocket notebook and had already snapped a picture with his phone and Granny was standing near the swinging door of the kitchen ready to dial the sheriff if the altercation escalated from shouting to outright brawling. Her money was on Belle to throw the first punch. She had never seen sweet, kind little Belle so enraged.

          Belle poked her father in the chest, causing him to wince from the sharp fingernail which dug in viciously. "For the last time, Papa. I love my husband. There is nothing you can say or do to change that. We are happy and expecting a baby, a product of our  _love_. Until you are willing to put aside your hatred for my Nicholas and realize we are happily married, I have nothing to say to you."

          Nicholas cast him a very satisfied smirk from over Belle's shoulder and wrapped his arm protectively around her waist, laying his hand over her stomach. In his opinion, Belle was the only thing good to ever come from the kingdom of Avonlea. He should have let the ogres have it after all. He watched as Moe stormed out of the diner, the force causing a long crack to appear in the glass. Granny muttered something under her breath, making Belle's face flame as she sat down with Gold in the booth once more, this time on the same side so she could hide her face against his shoulder.

          Granny had a waitress bring them a fresh sundae, since the other had melted into a mess. Gold took out his cellphone and made a call to the glass repair shop, explained what he wanted done and told them to send the bill to the pawn shop.

          "Are you alright, dearest?" he asked, cupping her face in his hand and smoothing away her tears with his thumb.

          She snorted in disgust. "I wish when you had designed the curse you could have found some way to leave him behind in Avonlea."

          He leaned in to kiss her, not caring who might be watching or snapping pictures. "Oh, my darling Belle, you say the sweetest things."

 

*.*.*

 

          Belle covered a wide yawn with her hand as she schlumped into the kitchen, heeding her husband's call up the stairs that breakfast was ready, and she was going to be late if she didn't move her arse. He was hidden behind his morning edition of the Storybrooke Mirror, but it didn't stop him from nudging a cup of tea in her direction. "Thank you, darling," she said glumly as she leaned over to peck him on the cheek. "And for the breakfast as well," she murmured around a mouthful of eggs. "Where's Ruby?"

          He simply lifted a brow and handed her the folded note which had been on the kitchen table when he'd entered the room that morning. She stared blankly at the bold scrawl.

 

_Belles —_

 

_I had a long talk with Granny last night. She wants me to come home. Let's face it. I'm so not cut out for police work. Especially after what I found yesterday. Eww! But I'm not supposed to talk about that. I'm going back home, and I just wanted to thank you so much for letting me crash with you guys. It meant a lot. Tell Nick thanks, too. He's really not such a bad guy after all. Try to come by the diner for lunch so we can chat._

 

_Ciao—_

_Ruby_

 

          She couldn't bite back the grin blossoming on her lips and he hummed in displeasure. "Not such a bad guy after all," she teased, her mood instantly lightening. "Aw, darling, your reputation as town monster has taken a severe blow. Whatever are you going to do?"

          "If she breathes one word, I'm going to raise her rent," he sneered, going back to his paper. Just because it was true his demeanor had softened since being reunited with his wife, that didn't mean he wanted anyone to notice.

          "Oh, I'm sure once you sneer and snarl at enough people, maybe trade a few snide remarks in the street with Regina, or smash a parking meter with your cane, everyone will think Ruby's cracked her lid for merely suggesting you could do something nice." He glared at her as she sipped her tea, the perfect picture of innocence. He knew better. She was just as snarky as he was nowadays. He didn't know whether to be pleased or horrified.

          "Don't you have to be at the school this morning?" he asked.

          "Yes, I do," she nodded, rising from the table and grabbing her things. She dropped a kiss to his lips and ended up on his lap. She should have known better than to try to leave without a proper kiss. It probably would have lasted longer if the house phone hadn't rung. It wasn't often it did, and few people had the number. "I'll get it," she said. "Hello … yes, Mr Dumiller … yes, I can fill in … no, it's not a problem … of course … goodbye."

          "What was that all about?" Gold asked curiously. No doubt another of her blasted charity functions to keep her away from him.

          "It's really odd. The principal just called to ask if I could sub for Mary Margaret's class. He said she might be out for a while. Mary Margaret never misses a class," she shook her head, thoroughly baffled.

          Gold shrugged. "Are you going to do it? This isn't just helping out, dearie. This is going to be a bit more stressful having to actually teach the little monsters."

          "I already told Dumiller I would, so I guess I am. And I've got to run if I'm not to be late." She reached up to kiss her husband goodbye as he rose from the table to walk her to the door. "I love you, Rumpel."

          "I love you, too, my Belle," he said with a smile full of tenderness. He scowled a moment later when Jefferson came bounding up the front porch steps and nearly collided with Belle. "Watch yourself, hatter!"

          Jefferson waved goodbye to Belle before turning to Gold, his face dropping into a concerned frown. "We may have a serious problem."

          Gold's eyes narrowed with menace. He was greatly annoyed with having to constantly clean up everyone else's messes. He should be the one causing them instead of cleaning them up. "What kind of problem?"

          "Emma arrested Mary Margaret this morning for Kathryn Nolan's murder," he told him, following Gold back into the house and into the kitchen where he calmly began pouring himself a cup of tea.

          "I beg your pardon? Arrested? She arrested her own mother?!" he asked dubiously. What the hell was happening? "How do you know this? Were you spying again?"

          Jefferson ducked his head, uncomfortable under Gold's close scrutiny and being caught in the act. "I may have been … watching … telescope," he mumbled, his voice trailing off nervously.

          "You are supposed to be keeping an eye on Regina!"

          "She's boring, Rum. I'm human. I got bored. Emma is far more interesting to watch," he explained.

          Gold looked at him in disgust and whacked him on the shoulder with his cane. "Stop thinking with the wrong head! Fuck! Now I'm going to be busy all day trying to find out what the hell happened. If I end up having a confrontation with Regina today, there will be consequences … for you."

          Jefferson gulped down the last of his tea and leaned a hip on the counter. "What do you want me to do?"

          "Your job! Go to work and keep your ears open," Gold barked, glowering at Jefferson. "Let's just hope Belle doesn't get wind of this. I don't want her in the middle of this problem. She'll feel it's her responsibility to help, therefore dragging me into it with her."

 

*.*.*

 

          Gold let himself into Regina's office, his cool demeanor instantly raising the hair on the back of her neck. Not that she would show any sign of fear to him. It didn't matter if he had no magic here and she would never admit it to  _anyone_ , but he was the only being she feared. "How can I help you today, Mr. Gold?" she asked, her tone cold and indifferent, bored even.

          He gave her a half smile and seated himself in a chair before her desk, his hands resting one atop the other on the gold handle of his cane. "I just thought we could have a little chat, you and I," he said, his voice filled with underlying menace.

          Regina glanced at him briefly before returning her attention to the documents on her desk. "I don't have time for pleasantries today, Gold. So, do get to the point," she sighed.

          "No need to be catty, dearie," he said, his mouth curving into a smirk. A very familiar smirk.

          Her head jerked up, her eyes widening before she could hide her surprise. She schooled her features back into her composed mask.

          "It seems our lovely Miss Blanchard has gotten herself into quite a predicament. I was just wondering what she ever did to you to make you want to set her up for murder."

          "Mr. Gold, surely you're not insinuating —"

          He rose quickly from his chair and placed his palm flat against the smooth wood of her desk, his lip curled away from his teeth. "I don't think we really need to play games today, do you … your majesty?" he asked, watching with satisfaction burning in his blood as her eyes widened in fear before she was able to hide it from him. He hated being forced to tip his hand in this, but it was the only way to get his nemesis to reveal her plans. Her vanity would work against her, and she would be unable to resist being smug about her impending victory over the princess.

          "How long have you been awake, Rumpel?" she asked, sitting back in her chair to smile smugly up at him.

          "Awhile."

          "Before Belle was released?"

          "Of course. Otherwise she would still be rotting away in that cell, now wouldn't she?" he hissed, barely able to his anger, the muscle in his jaw ticking angrily. "And believe me, dearie, I haven't forgotten I owe you for that."

          She tapped her blood red nails against the desk and continued to smile up at him. "And little Belle? Have her memories returned as well?" she asked, a glimmer of hope behind her eyes.

          "Sorry to disappoint, but she still doesn't remember. Thankfully, some feelings don't require memories," he smiled. He wouldn't betray Belle's secret and let Regina have an advantage over his wife.

          Regina sighed in disgust. "How could one girl be stupid enough to fall for you twice? I'm still aghast she fell for you the first time with you being … all green and … you." A shudder of revulsion swept through her, causing her stomach to roil. She reached into her desk drawer and withdrew a few antacid tablets.

          "True love, dearie. There's nothing else like it in the world. But we're not here to discuss my love life. I just want to know why you've tried to frame Mary Margaret," he replied, turning the conversation back to the original topic. "And what could you have possibly done with poor Mrs. Nolan?"

          "I had to do something. Emma's arrival has weakened my curse and Miss Blanchard was just getting a bit too close to Mr. Nolan. She was  _happy_ ," she nearly spat the word and it left a bad taste in her mouth. "But now she'll be put on trial and removed from Storybrooke. And we all know what happens when someone tries to leave our lovely little hamlet," she sneered.

          Gold sighed as if it was the stupidest idea he'd ever heard. "Clever, my dear, but not quite clever enough. You might've come to me for help instead of running about trying to devise your own plans." He chuckled. "Look how your last little scheme fell through."

          "That only failed because of your kleptomaniac little strumpet!" she hissed furiously, her face flushing bright red with anger.

          "I'll thank you not to speak ill of my wife," he growled through clenched teeth.

          "Then don't thank me."

          "You will leave Belle out of your scheming, Regina. You will not speak ill of her and you will leave her alone … _please_ ," he said, smiling.

          Regina clamped her lips shut and sneered at him. "Fine. At least I can still have my revenge on Snow White. Sanctimonious little brat."

          "And I'm certain you left evidence for Sheriff Swan to easily discover?" he asked casually as he continued to pick her for information.

          "That is my concern, Gold."

          "And soon it will be mine. Think on that awhile, your majesty."

 

*.*.*

 

          Belle was at the sheriff's station when he arrived, holding hands with Mary Margaret through the bars. He looked at his pocket watch and frowned. Noon. Her lunch break.  _Well. Just. Shit!_  He was hoping he'd be able to avoid this confrontation until evening.

          "Gold, what are you doing here?" Emma asked, eyeing him suspiciously. She didn't trust the smarmy pawn broker and didn't want him anywhere near Mary Margaret.

 _Thank you, Emma!_  Belle whirled around and speared her husband with her tear-filled cerulean eyes. "Belle, sweetheart, might I have a word?" he asked cautiously, trying to waylay her upset. She followed him out into the hall.

          "Nicholas, you know Mary Margaret is innocent," she began and then lowered her voice to a whisper. "She is the same person who spared Regina's life because she thought there might still be some good in her. She couldn't have done something so despicable to Kathryn." She placed her hand over his where it rested atop his cane. "Please say you'll help her."

          "That's why I'm here, dearest. I'm going to offer her counsel, and see if I can't get this mess cleaned up. A mess of Regina's making," he snarled against her ear. There were too many prying ears nearby to speak in normal tones.

          She brushed the hair away which had fallen over his eyes, so she could study him closely. "Are you certain you can help her?"

          "I will … on one condition."

          Belle tilted her head to the right, a quirk of hers telling Gold she was in deep thought. "What might that be?"

          "I'll help Mary Margaret if you promise to take it easy. All this stress is not good for our daughter," he told her, smiling as he smoothed his hand over her belly.

          "But —"

          "No buts. You're going to make me send you to  _your room_."

          She smirked up at him and tugged the end of his hair. "Our house doesn't have a dungeon, love."

          "No, but it has a basement."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I hope that chapter was as fun for you as it was for me. Can't wait to hear what you all think.


	44. Chapter 44

          Gold rolled over in the king-sized bed he shared with his wife, searching blindly for her warmth only to come up empty handed. His thoughts instantly bedeviled him and made him wonder if the past few months had only been a dream, and Belle was still lost to him. It was a thought such as that, upon waking, which had caused him to panic more than once since she'd been returned to him. And then the lovely scent of roses and peaches and something just unmistakably Belle would drift to him from her pillow and his heart would stop trying to escape from his chest.

          The digital clock on the nightstand read three twenty and he groaned, banging his head against the pillow. This was the third night this week he'd woken to find his wife missing from their bed in the middle of the night. He knew she had been having nightmares again, but she refused to discuss them with him. They were different this time. She'd stopped having dreams of her captivity when her memories had returned, and now – for the life of him – he couldn't understand what plagued her mind.

          He swore softly as he pulled his robe on over his black silk pajama bottoms and grabbed his cane. He felt as though he hadn't slept at all. The case against Mary Margaret was taking up all his time. More and more evidence was piling up against her and he was forced to watch the little princess sit in a cell which was not meant to contain her while Regina trotted about town with a smug smirk on her ruby lips. Emma was pounding the pavement investigating anything and everything which would lead her to finding Kathryn's body. Which was strange in and of itself.

          If they had been able to so easily locate the woman's heart in Mary Margaret's own jewelry box, no less, they should have been able to find the whole body. That led him to believe Regina hadn't killed the woman but had her stashed somewhere from public view, much like she'd done to his Belle. He'd even sent Emma to scour the abysmal psychiatric ward, but that had fortunately been closed not long after Belle had been liberated from it. Mostly it was closed due to the lawsuit he'd threatened to file against everyone involved.

          As his foot hit the top step, the smell from the kitchen wafted up the stairs to assail his nose. He groaned, his bad leg protesting as he followed the scent. She was baking again. Since her nightmares had begun again, she'd taken to staving them off by baking. It didn't matter what time of night; the kitchen is where he would find her. They had so many baked goods - in more Tupperware containers than he'd ever thought he owned - overflowing the kitchen. He'd taken to having Ruby come by to bring some to the diner to sell and Belle taking some to the elementary school for the cafeteria, so the children could enjoy.

          Belle was humming along to a song she was listening to on her iPod, the hot pink ear buds clearly visible in her ears. It gave him a chance to drop into a chair at the kitchen table, and watch her as she mixed ingredients for frosting for the cupcakes he could smell in the oven. She looked better in his clothes than he did, he observed, taking in the blue dress shirt over her own silk pajama bottoms, a slight dusting of powdered sugar on her left cheek. Her hair was pulled into a messy bun atop her head, her feet bare, and he wished he could keep her here in their home like this forever, but he would never tell her that.

          She was showing a bit more now, her pregnancy clearly evident beneath the loose-fitting clothes she wore and her skin practically glowed. Or at least it would if there weren't dark circles beneath her eyes from lack of sleep.

          Gold couldn't stifle the huge yawn which attacked him, and she looked up to meet his eyes, a frown marring her brow. "Rumpel, did I wake you? I'm sorry," she apologized as she moved to the oven and removed the cup cake pan, setting it on the counter to cool. Her feet made no noise as she padded across the kitchen and settled herself atop his good leg, wrapping her arms around his neck.

          He nuzzled his nose against her neck and reveled in her scent and the feel of her in his arms. He should be in his bed with her tucked against his side sound asleep, he thought irritably. "Why are you not in bed with me, sweetheart? You need to sleep. I need to sleep. Come with me and let's go sleep," he murmured wearily against her warm skin. His hand absently went to her swollen belly and rubbed gently. "Is the babe keeping you up?"

          She flushed guiltily, not wanting to burden him with her problems when he was already dealing with so many of his own at the moment. "I … uh … I just couldn't sleep," she finished lamely, knowing he wouldn't buy that excuse, but threw it out there anyway.

          The hand he had at her waist moved to her lower back and he could feel the tension there. "Try again, love." He gently applied pressure to ease the knots away from her spine.

          Belle let out a frustrated sigh in a loud whoosh. "I just had a bad dream, Rum. That's all."

          "Bad dreams which drive you to bake in the middle of the night," he deadpanned, his brow rising in doubt. "Belle, you're working yourself into the ground at that school trying to fill in for Miss Blanchard. You're helping me with her case and you're visiting her and bringing her dinner every evening. Now you're not sleeping because of these nightmares. Please tell me how I can help you. All this stress is not good for you  _or_  our daughter."

          She moved to get off his lap, but his hold on her was firm. "I don't want to talk about it, Rumpel. Just let it go. When I finish this batch, I'll come back to bed."

          "No, you won't. You're afraid to close your eyes, and I want to know why," he demanded, his warm sable eyes filled with worry.

          She stroked his cheek gently and rested her brow against his, her eyes burning with unshed tears. "I keep dreaming about the baby … and Regina," she admitted, her voice quavering with anxiety.

          "Regina?" he asked dubiously.

          "I keep dreaming she's going to take him from us. Just like she took me from you. I know it's crazy, but with all the hormones raging through my body, I can't help what I dream, Rumpel." She rested her head against his shoulder, feeling her body relax into him. She felt a bit better having finally told him of her fears.

          He cupped her cheek in his warm hand. "I will never let anyone take you or our child from me, Belle. Regina will be dealt with in due time, and will no longer be a threat to either of you. But you've got to rest." He tipped her chin up so she would meet his tired gaze. "Please leave all this until tomorrow and come back to bed."

          She nodded in defeat and followed him back to their bedroom, climbing in and tucking in against him, his arms tight around her to ward off her nightmares. Gold waited until she'd drifted into an uneasy sleep before reaching over to switch off the alarm. She could yell at him until she turned blue tomorrow, but she could do with a day off to get some rest. Then he'd make a call to Principal Dumiller to have someone fill in for her and threaten the man to get her some help during the day just as she'd been Miss Blanchard's teacher's assistant. Yes, he thought with a satisfied smirk, she could get mad at him tomorrow.

 

*.*.*

 

          Gold had spent the day locked in his home office while Belle, for the first time he could ever remember, actually took his advice and spent the day at home to rest. Henry and Grace came after school to help her begin painting the nursery. She had convinced him she found the chore relaxing, the swish of the brush soothing and at the same time she was able to get in a little exercise. He decided to let her have her way. Arguing about it couldn't be all that good for the baby, he'd thought. Belle had chosen a pastel yellow and green, refusing to paint it pink despite his assurances that they were going to have a girl.

          Belle glanced at him worriedly as she packed up a container of lamb stew to bring to the sheriff's station for Mary Margaret and another for Emma, along with a loaf of fresh baked bread. He was staring off, lost in thought, and had barely touched his dinner. "What's wrong, Rum? You never pass on your favorite dinner," she chided gently, coming to stand beside him, bag in hand and ready to leave.

          He smiled up at her, his usual warmth absent from the gesture. "Just preoccupied, dearest," he murmured, picking up his bowl and bringing it to the sink.

          She waited until they were in the car before bringing up the subject again. "Has Dove found nothing helpful?" she asked, finding it hard to believe the man hadn't been able to find a lead to help them.

          He sighed and glanced over at her. "Regina is being very careful. She doesn't want any of this to lead back to her. And in the meantime, she's being a pain in Emma's arse. Sydney Glass, however, has been acting a bit suspiciously."

          "How so?"

          "He's always been in love with Regina, even going so far as to trap himself in her mirror so as never to be away from her side," he said with a rueful shake of his head. "There's nothing that man wouldn't do for her, so I wouldn't put it past him to be in on her little scheme. I just have to prove it."

          Belle thought about that for a moment while he came around to her side of the car to help her out. "And you feel you're running out of time since the arraignment is tomorrow?" she asked, grabbing her bags and taking his proffered arm. He merely nodded as he opened the door to the station and allowed her to enter ahead of him.

          Gold knew instantly something was off. Henry was sitting out in the hall with his storybook open on his lap, but he was staring worriedly at Emma where she stood in the doorway, her entire body stiff with dread.

          "Hello, Henry," Gold greeted him, but his gaze was firmly on the sheriff. Emma turned on her heel, yelled at Henry to go home immediately and ran out of the station, leaving Belle to frown after her in confusion.

          "Well, that was odd," Belle murmured, proceeding into the office to bring Mary Margaret her dinner.

          Gold narrowed his eyes on the boy. "What do you know, Mr. Mills?" he asked in his most intimidating tone.

          Belle's panicky voice filtered from the doorway before Henry could answer. "Nicholas! I think you need to come in here."

          Henry peeked around the doorway, coming in behind Gold. "She was gone when I got here, Mr. Gold. I thought Emma might've taken her someplace safe, but she was just as surprised to find her gone as you were." His eyes grew wide as Belle set the bag of home-cooked food down on the desk and moved to the cell door, her hand closing over the key protruding from the lock.

          Belle held it out to her husband. "Look familiar?"

          He cursed softly, a wry smirk forming on his lips. "Yes, dearest. It seems Miss Blanchard is running, and we have Regina to thank for her means of escape."

          "Nicholas," she said, chewing her lower lip. "We have to find her. You know what happens when someone tries to leave Storybrooke." She turned to Henry. "How long have you been here, Henry?"

          "I don't know, maybe … um … maybe an hour before Emma showed up," he told her, clasping the book protectively to his chest. "Is Mary Margaret in trouble?"

          "Yes, Henry, she is in quite a bit of trouble. We have to get her back here before eight a.m. If Regina …"

          "We'll find her," Belle said confidently, hoping Mary Margaret's considerable head start wouldn't work against them. "And I know just who to call to help us search. If she's headed for the town line, he should be able to intercept her before she reaches it."

          Gold groaned and sent her a pleading look.

          "Who?" Henry asked, hope alight in his eyes as he looked at Belle.

          Belle smirked mischievously. "The Mad Hatter … naturally."

 

*.*.*

 

          Mary Margaret drained her teacup and handed it back to Jefferson. He tucked her into the large bed in the guest room and tried to calm her fears. "I promise, Mary Margaret, everything is going to work out. You have Nick and Belle and Emma on your side. They're not going to let you go to prison, but you can't run."

          "But, Jefferson, I don't want to see you get into trouble over this. I can't stay here," she insisted, trying to rise. A wave of dizziness hit her, forcing her back against the pillows.

          Jefferson brushed a lock of ebony hair away from her brow and smiled fondly at her. "Don't worry your pretty little royal head about it, princess. Just rest," he said, watching her drift off into a dreamless sleep. He'd never been so thankful he was able to recreate his special tea blends here in this land. She would be out for a few hours and hopefully the rest would help to clear her head and restore her.

          He dimmed the lights and left her in the guest room, pulling out his phone to send a text to Gold.  _The pigeon has come to roost._  That should be coded enough should someone intercept his messages. It should also have his friend running to the large white house at the edge of Storybrooke to see about his client. He was in the kitchen, rinsing out the teapot of his drugged tea blend when the doorbell alerted him to Gold's arrival. But it wasn't Gold on the other side of the threshold, but the delectable Miss Swan.

          His grin widened into a breathtaking smile. "Emma, how delightful to see you," he said warmly, stepping aside to allow her to come inside. He closed the door and led her down the short hall into the kitchen. "Would you care for some tea while you tell me what brings you to my door so late?"

          Emma's tongue darted out to wet her suddenly dry lips as his penetrating grey gaze swept over her. There was something so mesmerizing about Jefferson Madden, something which awakened feelings in her she hadn't felt for anyone since Henry's father, but it was something for which she had no time. She needed to focus her energy on her son and on helping her friend. There was no time in her life for romance, no matter how much she found herself attracted to him. A strong attraction she was coming to realize she was having a hard time denying. Especially since spending Christmas with him.

          She liked the way he smiled. A _secret_ smile born on his lips to seduce. She also liked the way his eyes crinkled at the corners showing his entire face lit up with laughter and quite often. She snorted inwardly at her fanciful notions. Laughter had been so long absent from her life, she doubted even Jefferson Madden would be able to bring it back into existence.

          Emma backed up against the counter and leaned against it, already weary from a long day. She hadn't imagined herself searching for a missing prisoner in the dead of night. "Tea would be nice," she sighed, accepting his kind offer. "Madden, have you seen anything out of the ordinary tonight on your property?" she asked, trying to glean information from him without telling him the specifics.

          Jefferson poured the water from the kettle into the ceramic teapot and added some chamomile tea leaves, letting it steep as he regarded her from beneath his long lashes. He smiled, a feral smile showing his too white teeth. It made Emma's hand twitch towards her gun. He didn't say anything as he walked to the doors and slid them closed to give them some privacy. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against them.

          "Something out of the ordinary, hmm?" he asked, his voice low, sultry, like a velvet caress to her overtaxed nerves. He stepped closer, and it took a concerted effort to keep her from backing away from him. His hand shot out to tuck an errant curl behind her ear and he reveled in the startled gasp which escaped her lips. "You mean like a woman running through the woods, perchance? A woman fleeing from a crime she didn't commit?"

          Emma's eyes widened, hope flaring in her chest. "You've seen her? Do you know where she is? Where she went?" she asked, moving past him. So concentrated on this news, she moved past him, realizing too late he'd lifted her gun from the holster as she passed. She froze in disbelief.

          "Mary Margaret is resting in the guest room, love. There's no need to disturb her while we have a little chat," he stated matter-of-factly. He tucked her gun in the back of his trousers and began pouring tea for them as if taking the sheriff's gun were an everyday occurrence. He dropped a sugar cube and a slice of lemon into her tea and pressed it into her hands. He'd watched her enough through the telescope to know how she took her tea. But he'd robbed her of speech with the news of her friend. "Stop gaping, Emma, and drink your tea," he said calmly, propping his hip against the kitchen table directly in front of her.

          Emma held out her hand. "I'll have my gun back, thank you."

          "'Fraid not, love." He watched her over the rim of his cup, his eyes darkening as he saw the fiery passion of her temper fight its way to the surface. "Drink your tea. You need the warmth … you're shivering."

          She gulped down a swallow of the hot liquid and glared at him. "You should have called me the moment you brought her here," she scolded, wincing as the tea scalded her throat.

          Jefferson laughed, feeling a little of the madness come to the fore, the madness he'd fallen into from his time in Wonderland. "Emma, Emma, Emma! You have bigger problems than finding an escaped prisoner."

          Her eyes narrowed on him, wondering what she'd really gotten herself into this time. Really, what did she know of this man? He happened to be Gold's close personal friend, something which didn't speak too highly of the man. "What are you talking about? I have to bring her in. Her arraignment is in the morning and if Regina …"

          Jefferson interrupted her, waggling his finger in her face as though she were a wayward child. "Ah! And therein lies the crux of the matter. We mustn't let the Evil Queen have her revenge against the fair Snow White."

          Emma rolled her eyes. "Alright, Madden, how much have you been drinking tonight?"

          He set his cup on the counter and pushed himself upright to face her, his body invading her personal space. "When are you going to open your eyes, little savior, and realize everything Henry has been telling you is the truth? How long is it going to take to open your eyes and see what is around you?"

          "You're crazy! I am not going to believe this entire town is populated by a bunch of fairy tale characters," she hissed, her voice rising at the absurdity.

          Jefferson removed the cup from her hands to join his and leaned a hand on either side of her on the counter, trapping her in place and resting his head against her shoulder. Emma braced her hands on his chest, suddenly overwhelmed by his close proximity. Butterflies took wing in her stomach against her will as she inhaled sharply. She was attracted to a crazy man who believed in fairy tales, and there was nothing she could do about it except try to keep her wits about her.

          "Why is it crazy, love? Tell me why you don't believe?" Jefferson purred against the shell of her ear, his warm breath sending a wave of gooseflesh to rise along her skin.

          She hated it when her heart sped, and her breath hitched, hated that he was making her feel soft, vulnerable. "They're just stories," she bit out, trying to hold on to her protests, trying to resist what he was making her feel.

          He pressed his cheek to hers, the husky timbre of his voice continuing to play havoc on her senses. "All stories are usually based on some fact, some truth, an experience. Why not fairy tales?"

          His hands slipped along her sides down to her hips, pulling her closer, his body curving to hers. He lifted his gaze to hers, his grey eyes hiding nothing from her. "It's all true, Emma. You just have to let yourself believe."

          A derisive laugh fell from her lips. "If what you say is true, then that woman sleeping in your guest room is my mother."

          "And David Nolan is your father, Regina is the Evil Queen and Belle and Rumpelstiltskin are Beauty and the Beast," he told her with the utmost seriousness, tilting his head to the side to study her.

          "Yeah … right. And just who the hell are you supposed to be, Casanova?" she asked, her gaze falling to his mouth and wondering if he wasn't crazy … how it would feel to kiss those smiling lips.

          Keeping one hand firmly on her hip, he used the other to remove the scarf at his throat, pulling it away and letting it drop to the table behind him. Emma stared in horror at his neck and the jagged scar encircling it. Her hands left his chest to run her fingertips along the reddened scar. "My name really is Jefferson, but you would probably know me better as the Mad Hatter. I'm a portal jumper, but I didn't lose my head until I wound up in Wonderland. The Queen of Hearts took exception to my presence in her domain and it was 'off with his head'."

          "I read  _Alice in Wonderland_  in school," she said, continuing to caress the scar. His lips were a scant inch from hers, his warm breath caressing her face and she was losing her focus on anything which didn't involve him.

          He was steadily closing the distance between them, his hands moving slowly up her back to twine in her long blonde tresses. "The experience left much to be desired," he whispered, his lips closing over hers before she could protest.

          And then she didn't want to protest. The attraction she'd felt for weeks was finally being fulfilled, and it swept all other thoughts from her head. All she could do was feel as his scent enveloped her, warm and spicy. The soft brush of his lips, so soft on hers, drew a gasp from her, allowing him entrance to the sweet honeyed recesses of her mouth. The first tentative brush of his tongue sent heat coiling through her, making her press closer, her arms snaking about his neck and encouraging him to explore. She was kissing who she thought was a crazy man … in his kitchen … trapped in his arms against the counter when she should be doing her job … and she couldn't have cared less. He felt so good, his body boldly molded to hers, kissing her as though she were the most precious thing he'd ever held in his arms. And all she could think of was that she wanted more.

          Gold slid the kitchen doors open and froze, causing Belle to plow into his back. He had to stop himself from sniggering at the scene before him. He hadn't expected to see the tough-as-nails savior plastered against the hatter like a second skin. He cleared his throat, hearing Belle gasp behind him as she peered over his shoulder to see why he'd stopped so suddenly.

          "Sheriff Swan, so good to see you're so thorough when interrogating witnesses," he deadpanned, raising a sardonic brow as the pair sprang away from each other. Emma blushed to the roots of her hair and glared at Gold.

          "What are you … um … doing here, Gold?" she stammered, lifting her gun quickly from Jefferson and replacing it in her holster.

          Gold glanced down at his wife to find her blushing as well, no doubt in sympathy for her friend. He turned back to Emma. "I've come to have a chat with my client, of course."

          Emma glared at Jefferson, her eyes flashing daggers at him. "You called him before you called the station? If I hadn't shown up, would you have called at all?"

          Jefferson shoved his hands into his pockets and shrugged noncommittally. "Probably not." He nodded down the hallway, telling Gold without speaking where Mary Margaret was. Gold took Belle's hand and left the kitchen, closing the door behind them. Emma moved to follow, but Jefferson caught her hand and pulled her back into his embrace, shoving her right hand up behind her back so she couldn't reach for her gun.

          "Let go, Madden," she protested weakly, her body still thrumming pleasantly from the kiss they'd shared.

          "I have a name, sweetling. I'd appreciate it if you'd use it," he purred silkily against the corner of her mouth.

          Emma struggled against the firm hold he had on her. "Fine! Jefferson, let me go," she hissed angrily.

          He rested his brow against hers, refusing to give up the advantage just yet. "I'm not going to give up on you. I am going to help you believe if it takes me until the end of time. I am going to help you see Regina is more than just your enemy, that she will not stop until she crushes you and everyone you hold dear. And when the curse is broken, I am going to pursue you and court you and love you the way you deserve."

          Jefferson dropped a quick kiss to her lips and straightened, stepping away from her to go check on his guests, a satisfied smile playing on his lips. Fear clutched at her heart as she stood there alone in his kitchen. She'd never been dealt such a heartfelt profession such as he'd just delivered, and it scared the hell out of her. But was she fearing those words because she didn't believe he'd meant them, or because she really wanted him to?

 

*.*.*

 

          Regina marched purposefully into the sheriff's station, a spring in her step and a satisfied smirk on her ruby red lips. Today was going to be a wonderful day. Mary Margaret should have found the key yesterday which had been planted in her cell. Sometime last night she should have made her way across the town line, and Regina's long-awaited revenge should finally be fulfilled. A grand day indeed. Everything should have gone according to plan.

          Which was why, when she walked into Emma's office where the holding cells were, the smile she wore slid off her face to land somewhere around the pricy Jimmy Choo's adorning her feet. Gold's wife sat on the sofa next to the cell holding Mary Margaret, sharing tea and scones with the little schoolteacher, chatting quietly as though they were the best of friends.

 _What. The. Hell?_  Gold stepped into her path before her fury could work its way onto her features. His trademark smirk was firmly in place. "So sorry, Madam Mayor, but my client isn't receiving visitors this morning," he said smugly.

          Regina raised a perfectly arched brow in Belle's direction. "And just what do you call her?" she asked irritably.

          Gold's smirk flourished into a grin. "Love, sweetheart, dearest …"

          Regina felt her breakfast seek to make a return appearance. "You know what I mean," she snapped. "You don't always have to be so damn literal, Gold."

          "I know, dear, but I do so love watching you  _squirm_." He pressed the skeleton key into her hand and watched as her eyes flared just the tiniest bit. "You really need to hold onto your keys. Never know where they might end up, do we?" He leaned a bit closer to her. "Your little plan failed, your majesty."

          "It's not over yet," she hissed, her lips curling into a sneer.

          Gold watched her leave the office, and bit down on the anger fighting to loose itself. He didn't feel it abate until Belle's hand pressed against his lower back. She was the only person in creation who could take him from the fires of heated anger to the cooling depths of calm in an instant, her light chasing away his darkness. "It's alright, Rum. She won't win. She'll never be able to beat you, love."

          It was true. This was his curse, his manipulations, his hard work and effort. All to find his son. He would  _not_  let that spiteful harpy ruin his plans for her petty revenge. He couldn't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Alright, dearies! Back on track now. I hope you like the way the story is going. Love you guys and can't wait to hear what you think.


	45. Chapter 45

          Emma found herself standing in the corridor outside the fourth-grade class of the elementary school, unsure if she should enter or not. Children crowded the hallways bustling to get to their buses and carpool lines, the day having finally ended. It was the perfect time to talk to Belle alone without Gold hanging around listening to every word.

          The man still gave her the creeps, no matter how different he was with his beloved spouse. He was just another hardened business man who couldn't resist softening around the edges for his wife, or at least that's all he should have been. But the man had the uncanny knack to be able to see through everything, _know_ everything. Nothing got past that man. It was just unnatural.

          And then there was Jefferson Madden. He was the reason Emma was standing in the hallway of the school hesitant to knock on the door to see Belle. Belle, her friend. One of the few people she had grown close to since her arrival in Storybrooke. It was amazing she felt she  _could_  grow close to a woman who had spent the past few years in an asylum.

          But Belle had never appeared crazy, not in the least. Gold had assured her, Hopper had assured her and even Mary Margaret was convinced of Belle's sanity. Another of Regina's schemes to hurt the people around her, Gold had said. Regina had wanted Gold to suffer, make him think Belle was dead and had used Belle's own father to perpetrate the lie. What was it with this town?

          Now she was attracted to a man …  _seriously_  attracted to a man who thought of himself as the Mad  _freakin_  Hatter! He actually thought he was a character out of a fairy tale, that the town was inhabited with fairy tale characters. Her head fell forward to bang on the door. Why could she never have feelings for someone normal? Not that she knew how to classify normal anymore. Jefferson had called her six times in the last three days to check on her, and she had ignored each and every call.

          She'd listened to the voicemails, the tone of his voice so concerned, so caring, and it was getting harder and harder for her to resist the temptation to talk with him. No matter how much she tried not to think of the kiss they'd shared, she couldn't seem to get it out of her mind. She had to admit it, but she didn't want to, those three words which played over and over in her mind:  _I want him!_

          Emma nearly tumbled head first into the room as Belle opened the door. "Emma!" Belle shrieked as the sheriff stumbled forward. "What are you doing here?" she asked, catching Emma's arm and helping to steady her.  She looked absolutely miserable. She was pale and dark circles had bruised the delicate skin beneath her lovely green orbs.

          "I don't know. I guess I just wanted to talk," she said, her expression forlorn. "Do you have time, or do you have to go straight home?"

          Belle led her over to her desk and made Emma sit down in the teacher's chair. She perched next to her on a spot she cleared on the cluttered desk and gave Emma her full attention. Perceptive as always, Belle had a feeling she knew what was troubling her friend. "Does this little visit have to do with the investigation, or a certain man you were seen snogging?" she asked, a teasing grin playing on her rosebud mouth.

          Emma groaned and dropped her head into her hands. "Madden is a crazy person and …"

          Belle smiled. "And you like him … really like him, hmm?" she asked, placing a comforting hand on the other woman's shoulder.

          "Belle, he's … he's …"

          "Wonderful, handsome and vastly intriguing? Is he a good kisser?"

          "Belle! That's beside the point," Emma huffed, exasperated. "I came to you for advice. How well do you know him?"

          Belle sighed, wondering how long it would be before their savior actually got around to doing some saving. "Emma, Jefferson is the best friend I've ever had. And he's not afraid of my husband, which is saying something. Nicholas sees him as a friend, too, although it took him a very long time to admit it. He's saved me more than once, putting his own life on the line. He's loyal, he's brave and he has such a capacity to love, it is overwhelming. Talk to him, get to know him and then decide if his eccentricities are enough to keep you from having something wonderful."

          Emma sat back in the chair and pondered the advice she'd asked for. He really was sweet and there was no denying he was loyal to the Golds. She wondered if that loyalty would extend to her if she would give him a chance. But her reserve always came back to his delusions. "Belle, I don't know if I can get over the fairy tale delusion he seems to be suffering."

          Belle lifted a questioning brow. "Emma, does Jefferson seem the type to suffer delusions? Have you ever noted a hint of madness about him? I mean … yes, he can be a complete goofball at times, but …"

          Emma gave this serious thought and didn't like the fact that Belle was right. "No. I admit he's really quite intense, but no, he's not mad."

          "And since he's not certifiably insane, couldn't what he's revealed to you actually be based in fact? Henry's tried to convince you of the same and you don't think he's crazy," she pointed out.

          Emma stiffened, thinking of her son. "Henry is trying to turn everything into a fairy tale because he's trying to escape the reality of having Regina as his adoptive mother," she spat bitterly.

          "Or it could be true," Belle insisted with a nod.

          "Belle, seriously? You're buying into this now?" Emma asked with a groan. "If you are, who would that make  _you_?"

          "Belle, of course. Regina wasn't able to give me any cursed memories. She felt she didn't need to, having me locked up as it were. I had no memories at all," she said in a quiet tone, praying the truth spilling from her mouth wouldn't change Emma's opinion of her.

          "Belle, as in Beauty and the Beast Belle?" she scoffed. "That would make Gold the beast. I can totally see that in some twisted fairy tale kind of way." Jefferson's words rang in her ears. "Then why did Jefferson call him Rumpelstiltskin?"

          Belle rubbed her hand absently over her swollen belly, her gaze sliding off to the side, away from Emma's. "I don't know, perhaps because he is?" She put it in the form of a question to leave just a hint of doubt for Emma to take as she liked. "Nicholas is very powerful and has a knack for wielding that power. And he's quite the deal-maker. Even you must admit that … since you made a deal with him yourself." She looked up at the savior to watch the conflicted emotions wage war on her features.

          "This is impossible," Emma maintained, unwilling to let herself slide down the rabbit hole into madness. "I can't do this, Belle. I have to concentrate on protecting Henry and I have to help Mary Margaret. Maybe …"

          Belle hopped off the desk and wrapped her arms around Emma's shoulders in an embrace meant to comfort. "I know it's overwhelming and that's why we aren't going to let you go through this alone. You have me and Nicholas and Jefferson to help you."

          Emma nodded, feeling numb and emotionally drained. "Thanks, Belle."

          "Walk with me to the shop and let's talk with my husband. I'm certain between the three of us, we'll be able to formulate a plan to help Mary Margaret. And if that same plan can help us knock Regina off her throne, all the better."

 

*.*.*

 

          Gold wasn't happy an after-school visit from his lovely Belle soon blossomed into a full out secret council meeting for "Operation Cobra". They were all crammed into the back of his shop waiting for Henry to arrive. Word had come over the walkie he was trying to ditch Regina and hadn't yet been able to succeed. He reclined back in his desk chair with Belle on his lap, content for the moment to simply hold her and rub soothing circles on her belly.

          Jefferson was seated next to Emma on the sofa talking quietly about their children, a safe enough topic to try to get to know one another better. He had to admit he'd been surprised to find them locked in a passionate embrace when he'd gone to Jefferson's home to talk sense into Mary Margaret. Not so much in the fact Jefferson had finally given into his crush on Emma Swan, but that the woman had seemed to return his affection. It pleased him to no end to see his faithful friend reaching out to grab some happiness of his own.

          The bell over the front door of the shop chimed, alerting the occupants of the back room, followed by a timid, "Hello? Mr. Gold?"

          Gold stiffened. "Who invited him?" he hissed in Emma's direction.

          She glared at him. "He  _is_  part of this operation … according to Henry." She hopped up off the sofa and went to the curtain separating the shop. "Come on back, Archie," she called to the new arrival.

          Archie was his usual bundle of nerves, but Belle's welcoming smile put him at ease. "How are you, Archie? Would you care for some tea?" she asked sweetly, slipping off her husband's lap to pour.

          "Thank you, Belle," he offered politely, glancing around at the other members of Henry's operation. "Would someone please like to explain what's happening?"

          Everyone looked to Emma as a clear sign she was in charge until Henry arrived. She clamped her mouth shut as the bells chimed again. She wasn't expecting Henry to arrive with August Booth. She looked at Gold who was eyeing the man with suspicion in his whisky-colored eyes which seemed to be growing darker by the second. Belle seemed a bit apprehensive herself. Jefferson simply shrugged.

          No one had a warm welcome for the mystery man who had drifted into town a few weeks ago, claiming to be a writer looking for the inspiration of a small town to work on his latest book. No one ever came to Storybrooke. No one but Emma. They had a right to regard him uneasily. It was only Henry who had placed his trust in the man and that, she believed, was because August played on Henry's fantasy.

          "Awesome, everyone's here," Henry chirped happily, dropping his backpack in a corner and taking a seat between his mother and Jefferson.

          Emma pulled him into a hug and checked him over to make sure he was well. "How long do you have before Regina gets suspicious?"

          Henry beamed at her. "Mom thinks I'm at the Tillman's studying. I've got loads of time."

          Gold's fingers skimmed over one of the bracelets resting innocently on Belle’s wrist and never wished so hard that he could once again share their mind link. She glanced surreptitiously at him from beneath her lashes and eased herself off his lap. "Jefferson, could I please speak to you for a moment?" she asked, her voice sweet and innocent. It immediately raised the hair on the back of Jefferson's neck. He knew that tone all too well and it never boded well for anyone.

          Jefferson followed her into the front of the shop all the way to the front door where she was certain they wouldn't be overheard. "What do you know about Mister Mysterious in there?"

          Jefferson shoved his hands into the pockets of his pants and rocked back on his heels. "Not much, really. I've seen him around town," his voice dropped to a whisper. "through the telescope. He has been seen quite often at the diner, at the inn and he's been sniffing an awful lot around Emma … and Ruby. I think he might have a thing for Ruby."

          "Anything useful, Jeff?"

          "Not even remotely," he lamented sadly.

          Belle's teeth worried her lower lip as she tilted her head slightly, deep in thought. "It's nagging me, at the back of my mind. Jefferson, before Emma came to town, were there many visitors to Storybrooke?"

          "No," he said, dragging out the word as his mind engaged along Belle's train of thought. "Actually, Emma was the first."

          "Emma is Snow and Charming's daughter, born in our land and sent here before the curse was enacted," she thought aloud. Her eyes widened as the realization hit her like a punch to her gut. "Emma was able to come into Storybrooke because she's one of us, a native of the Enchanted Forest. August must also be from our home."

          "That is brilliant, my darling girl!" he beamed, cupping her face and kissing her soundly.

          Belle laughed and pushed him gently away from her. "I'll fill you in on the meeting, Jeff."

          "Um … why? Where will I be if not at the meeting?"

          "You are going to the inn to see what you can discover about our mysterious visitor."

 

*.*.*

 

          Gold gave up his seat for Belle when she returned to the back room. He looked askance at her, wondering what kind of fool's errand she'd sent the hatter on, but unable to speak of it with a room full of prying ears. Henry didn't seem to realize Jefferson was missing, anxious to begin. "Thanks, everyone, for meeting today," he said, his ten-year-old face alight with excitement. "Who has anything new to report?"

          Emma put her hand to his shoulder and spoke first. "We are all in agreement that Mary Margaret is innocent?" she asked, receiving nods all around. "Gold?"

          Gold sighed in frustration. "DA Spencer wants to talk to her in the next few days and Miss Blanchard has agreed. She's confident nothing she has to say will work against her. I disagree, but she's not wanting to heed my advice. I know the man, and he will twist her words and make her sound like a murderess. I'm going to need you, Miss Swan, to help me talk her out of it."

          Emma groaned, knowing how stubborn Mary Margaret could be, and trying to talk her out of something once her mind was made up was an effort in futility. "Archie?"

          Hopper nearly choked on his tea as everyone's focus shifted to him. "I'm … uh … not really sure how I can help. I'm m-mainly in this operation to offer counsel to Henry," he stammered nervously.

          Gold tapped his cane impatiently. "Point taken, Dr. Hopper, but that doesn't mean you can't keep your eyes open and take note of any odd behavior from our malevolent mayor."

          Archie swallowed audibly, quailing under Gold's menacing glare. "I don't know if it's suspicious, b-but Regina has been spending an inordinate amount of time with Sydney Glass."

          Belle pushed the silent button on her phone and ignored the text Jefferson sent, trying her best to keep the guilty flush from rising in her cheeks. Emma gaped at Hopper, rising to her feet and feeling a bit confused. "What is Sydney doing with Regina? I thought he hated her because she had him fired from the  _Mirror_."

          Gold snorted, drawing unwanted attention to himself. "It's all an act, dearie. Mr. Glass has been her lapdog for longer than you've been alive," he bit out scathingly. "You put your faith in the wrong man when you let him talk you into going against Regina with that land scam."

          Emma flushed, angry at herself. "So, it would be a good idea to keep our eyes on him as well."

          Belle sat back and watched Booth with narrowed eyes as she listened to the group's plans to put their key suspects under surveillance. She was convinced her theory was right and he hailed from the Enchanted Forest, but what were his real motives for being in town? She might just have a little side project to uncover the mystery that was August Booth.

 

*.*.*

 

          Saturday morning, Belle had Dove drive her out to the white mansion on the hill to speak with Jefferson without her husband's knowledge. She was still reeling from the pictures Jefferson had sent to her phone the night before. He'd sent several photos he'd taken of objects strewn around Booth's rented room at the inn, but only one stuck out, only one was cause for her to worry.

          Jefferson eyed Belle as she sat on the sofa sipping her tea as if everything was right with the world. Nothing was ever going to be right again. He leaned his hands against the fireplace mantel and stared down into the flickering flames. His stomach roiled with anxiety and fear, and that fear wasn't even for himself. He wondered when he'd become so noble and selfless. He hadn't always been, not since his wife had been lost. But he wasn't going to dwell on the past when so many things here in the present demanded his attention. "How could he possibly know about the dagger?"

          Belle's knuckles whitened around the teacup in her hand as she forced herself not to fall apart in fear. "Something has to be done. Rumpelstiltskin needs to be protected. Yes, he's powerful in his own right, but without his magic, he's still vulnerable."

          "At least we can be thankful he can't be controlled by the dagger until the curse is broken," Jefferson nodded, taking some relief in that fact.

          "Yes, Jeff, but the question is … does our Mr. Booth know that?"

          "Why don't we have a chat with the man to find out?" he suggested.

          "Without Rumpel's knowledge? Do you really see that happening?" she asked incredulously, snorting in disbelief over the rim of her cup. Her eyes narrowed as she watched him closely. She could almost hear the wheels turning in his mind. "What are you planning, Jefferson?"

          A slow grin spread on his full lips until it settled into a calculating and rather devious smile. "Trust me, darling. I'll pick you up tonight at eight."

          Belle groaned as she set her cup down and grabbed her purse on the way to the door. "Just tell me this isn't going to land us in jail."

          Jefferson just grinned and kissed her brow as he opened the front door for her. "I would never do anything which might involve me getting turned into a snail the moment Rumpelstiltskin gets his magic back," he quipped. Belle rolled her eyes and walked down the drive, allowing Dove to hand her into the car.

 

*.*.*

 

          Belle closed the door behind her and threw the deadbolt. She left her purse on the hall table and kicked her shoes off her aching feet. She knew Gold was home, not only because his car was in the driveway, but also because she could feel him. The more the curse weakened, the more she could feel him through their blood bond. Thankfully, the bond had somehow survived being in a land without magic. It was weaker here, but at least it was still there.

          He was at the wheel in the library, much to her surprise. He couldn't spin straw into gold here, but he could still enjoy his favorite pastime. She watched him silently from the doorway, leaning against the doorjamb and letting the creak of the wheel lull her into calm.

          The familiar sound made her yearn for their home in the Dark Castle. It took her back to the comfort of being alone with her beloved and not having to worry about the petty intrigues of a town full of confused and frightened people trying to survive the queen's curse. She missed her imp in all his glory, giddy with whatever deal he'd made and content to sit before the fire with her and share a cup of tea. All the while he'd been scheming, it had never seemed to affect her personally. And now she was thrust right into the center of it all, desperate to help him achieve his ultimate goal and the frustration of it all was wearing on her.

          "What's wrong, dearest?" he asked, the steady motion of the wheel slowing beneath his hand.

          "I could ask you the same thing, love," she countered softly, moving to sit on the bench beside him. "Rum? Can you feel me through the bond?" she asked, studying him.

          He took her hand in his and brought it to his lips to kiss her fingertips. "I can. Since the night I brought you home. It's weak, but yes, I can feel you, my Belle."

          "Do you trust me?" she asked, her gaze sliding away from his to land on their joined hands.

          He placed his hand beneath her chin and lifted it, bringing her gaze back to his. "You know I do," he said in all seriousness. "What have you done … or what are you  _going_  to do to violate that trust?"

          "I would never do anything to hurt you, Rum. But I need to do something, and I need the … um … the dagger," she stumbled over her words, holding on to his hand when he tried to move away from her. His eyes had darkened, rage simmering just beneath the deep sable pools, ready to be unleashed. "Don't you  _dare_  get all Dark One on me, Rumpelstiltskin. I have proven my love and loyalty to you countless times. It was you who gave the dagger into my care, if you'll remember."

          "Tell me why," he hissed, his voice low, that dangerous edge he saved for his enemies creeping into his tone. His hands clenched into fists where they came to rest on his thighs.

          "Booth is not Bae, Rumpel. I know if I thought it might be a possibility, then surely you had." She trailed her fingertips along the side of his face, his gaze tortured as he turned into her touch. "He's not Bae," she insisted.

          "But, Belle …"

          "No." She pulled out her phone and showed him the picture, a crude drawing of the kris dagger bearing the Dark One's name, which Jefferson had taken the night before. "He knows you, love. He knows about your power and I'm going to find out why and how. I'm convinced he's from our world, and I want to know who he is and why he's pretending to be someone he's not."

          "I'll do it," he insisted, ignoring the stubborn set of her chin. "It's too dangerous for you to confront him."

          "Jefferson is going with me. We're just going to have a little chat with the man. I …"

          "The hatter is not capable of seeing to your protection. I will do this."

          "See, this is why I didn't want to have to tell you. You're being unreasonable. You want to treat me like that bloody tea cup, like I'm some fragile flower who can't walk two feet without needing someone to save me!"

          He offered her a contrite smile. "I know you're not a fragile wilting flower, my darling. I know you are more than capable of taking care of yourself."

          "Then you'll let me do this?" she asked, watching him hopefully. She had known this was going to end in a deal and he'd get his way, but she’d hoped regardless.

          "On one condition."

          Her hope dropped like a boulder into her stomach. "Which is?"

          "I'm coming with you. If you insist on doing this … whatever this is, I am not letting you go alone with only Jefferson at your back," he insisted reasonably.

          "Fine. Deal." He lifted her onto his lap and claimed her lips in a soul-searing kiss. She may not have liked making deals with her imp, but she loved to seal them.

 

*.*.*

 

          Jefferson spent the afternoon with Emma … and the odious Booth, trying to find evidence against Regina. The writer was trying to horn in on Jefferson's precious time with Emma and it was pissing him off. He was wishing he had his hat, so he could send the pompous braggart off to a realm populated by lovely flesh-eating caterpillars to feast on his face.

          He checked his watch to see there was plenty of time until he was to meet Belle and Gold at the cabin the pawn broker had hidden in the woods. Few people knew of the cabin and therefore it would be the perfect place for the interrogation they had planned. The only problem was Emma would have to be brought along. He had a feeling she wouldn't take kindly to a kidnapping.

          He knew Belle wouldn't be able to keep their rendezvous a secret from Gold. She wouldn't keep secrets from him, fearful of losing his trust. And his trust was the only thing she valued as much as his love. It made Jefferson wonder if he would ever have a chance to get to that level with Emma. At least he'd been able to talk her into letting them use his car for their stakeout instead of her bright yellow bug, his car being less recognizable than hers.

          "She hasn't done anything suspicious all day at her office. What makes you so certain she's going to do something now that she's home?" Booth asked wearily from the backseat.

          Jefferson rolled his eyes at the man's smarmy arrogance. "Dove and Archie are keeping an eye on Sydney, Henry is with Grace and the Tillman kids, having a sleepover and it's our turn to watch Regina. Suck it up, man, and relax." He reached under the seat and grabbed his thermos of tea … his special blend, he thought with a satisfied smirk. He poured the brew into the lid and handed it back to his victim … er … passenger. "Here, have some tea."

          Emma rolled down the window and dumped out her to-go cup which had held her coffee, passing the now empty cup to Jefferson. "Just a little, Jeff, please," she said, already yawning from lack of sleep and an already full day. "I could really use the caffeine."

          Jefferson bit down hard on his tongue to stifle the groan threatening to pass his lips. He couldn't deny her without raising her suspicions, and prayed she didn't hold it against him when she finally regained consciousness. He offered her a pained smile as he watched her down the lukewarm brew and settle back comfortably against the seat.

          There were just so many possibilities of what she would do to him upon waking and none of them were good. Booth was already snoring loudly in the backseat as Emma's head dropped against Jefferson's shoulder in a drugged slumber. Having little choice now, he started the car and turned it in the direction of Gold's cabin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Alrighty, dearies. Remember this is AU and I am taking full advantage of that. Yes, things are different, but still moving along. Please be patient. Mary Margaret WILL get out of jail next chapter. I just couldn't wait to get August out of the way. He irritates me. And I didn't want our Gold blubbering over the wrong person like on the show. I'm saving that for Bae. So hopefully, I haven't disappointed you with this chapter. Please, good or bad, let me know what you think. I live for your reviews. They give me lots of warm and fuzzies. Love you guys and happy reading.


	46. Chapter 46

          Emma's nose scrunched up as she frowned. The last thing she remembered was being in the car with August and Jefferson. Her eyes eased open as dread pooled in her stomach like acid … Jefferson! She took in her surroundings, trying to keep her breathing as steady as possible to continue the ruse that she was still asleep.

          She was in a room curled up on a rather sizable bed with a plaid comforter, possibly one of the softest beds she'd ever slept in. The furnishings were sparse, a nightstand with a lamp, a dresser with mirror, a comfortable looking green wingback chair next to a door she assumed was a closet and curtains on the window to match the duvet. An area rug in red and green covered the polished wood floor and her feet itched to bury her toes in it to see if it was as plush as it looked.

          She moved just her eyes to look down at her feet to see her boots had been removed as well as her leather jacket. At least someone had made the effort to see to her comfort. She just wasn't the least bit happy to notice the someone was spooned against her back with his arms locked tightly around her torso to hold her in place.

          Emma moved just a fraction of an inch, trying to assess the body's proportions pressing so intimately to her from hair to toe. She didn't have long to wait, her efforts needless as she recognized the silky smooth timbre of the voice against her ear. "I know you're awake, little rabbit," Jefferson crooned, his arms tightening around her just a bit when she tried to move out of his embrace. He sighed in frustration, anticipating her wrath. "If you give me just a moment, I promise to explain."

          "I don't want an explanation! I want you to let me up!" she shrieked and then moaned as a flash of pain streaked across her vision. "What the hell did you do, Madden?"

          "I swear, Emma, you were just in the wrong place at the wrong time."

          "That is  _not_  an explanation!"

          "I thought you didn't want an explanation."

          "Jeff!" she hissed, struggling once more to free herself.

          Jefferson took pleasure in the fact she’d used his name for once and nuzzled his nose against the side of her neck, causing her to suck in a sharp breath.  _Oh, now is not the time to get aroused_ , she thought frantically. "I needed to deliver Booth here for … something, and you just happened to be in the car."

          "You drugged that damn tea, didn't you? Just like you did for Mary Margaret," she hissed, reminding herself to never accept any type of food or drink from the man again. Then it dawned on her what he'd said. "What do you mean you needed August?"

          Keeping his arms locked around her, he shifted her, so she was lying on her back, now able to look up at him. "Booth has some questions to answer and I just had to play the delivery guy. I'm so sorry I had to involve you in this." For once he was being completely serious, his quirky sense of humor mysteriously absent.

          Emma turned her head to the side, unintentionally exposing her neck to him, but she couldn't stand to look up into his probing grey gaze any longer and the yearning it held. She shivered as he dropped his head to her shoulder, his hair tickling the side of her face. "Where are we? Who needs to talk to Booth and why?" she asked, trying to use her innate curiosity to distract herself from the heat flooding her limbs and pooling in her belly. She had to get out of there … fast.

          Jefferson lifted his head to answer her questions and Emma head-butted him in the nose. He howled in pain and grabbed at his injury, his arms loosening so she was able to roll from under him. She rounded the bed at a run and flung the door open only to be tackled to the floor, his weight landing heavily on her. The breath left her lungs and it took her a moment to realize they were lying half in and half out of the bedroom. In her dazed state, she was able to take in the modest living room with its stone hearth, sofa and arm chairs and a small dining table. Booth was tied to one of the chairs, still unconscious.

          Jefferson grabbed her flailing arms and pinned her hands above her head. "Emma, stop. I'm not going to hurt you," he insisted, blinking away the tears which had sprung to his eyes when she'd injured his nose. "Do you really think I would jeopardize the small chance I had of being with you if it weren't important? Yes, I drugged you and I'm sorry. But I made certain you were safe and comfortable, and no harm came to you. Couldn't you just please stop trying to escape long enough to realize that?"

          Why did he have to be so sincere? There wasn't a hint of a lie in anything he'd said, and it was all on her whether or not to put her trust in him. She didn't want to get hurt again. She couldn't allow her heart to get stomped on again. But she was so tempted. "Let. Me. Up," she warned, her voice revealing none of the turmoil she felt. "Then you can explain everything before I haul your ass down to the station."

          Before he could make his mind up as to whether or not he would comply with her request, the cabin door opened, and they were staring up into one set of wide blue eyes and the amusement in a pair of sable brown orbs. "Jefferson," Gold began, his lips turned up into a half moon grin. "This is becoming a habit of yours, is it not?"

          "Emma! What are you doing here?" Belle asked, startled to find her friends on the floor in another compromising position. "And what happened to you, Jeff?" She couldn't help but notice his swelling nose and the faintest of bruises darkening the skin beneath his eyes. He was going to be a sight the next day.

          "I need a stiff drink," Emma grumbled as Jefferson rose and hauled her to her feet, prodding her in the direction of the kitchen. "Please tell me you have something to drink in this place, Gold," she said, realizing he must own the cabin. He owned everything else, why not a remote cabin in the woods. She didn't even want to think of what sort of debauchery he conducted here, kidnapping being the least of them.

          Jefferson's bemused expression only goaded Gold more. "You know, hatter, this was supposed to be an interrogation … not a date."

          "Yes, thanks for that," Jefferson said ruefully, flashing a quick venomous smile before he went to the bathroom to check the damage Emma had done to his nose.

          Belle found a bottle of scotch in the cupboard and handed it to Emma. "You shouldn't have been dragged into this. What the hell was Jefferson thinking?" she fumed, looking in another cupboard for a tumbler. "I'm so sorry, Emma."

          Emma took the tumbler from Belle and poured two fingers of scotch into the glass before downing it and refilling. "He says I was in the wrong place, wrong time." She gasped as the whiskey burned a fiery trail down her throat. "Now I'm going to have to arrest him for kidnapping," she groaned, the thought making her frown in disgust.

          Belle crossed her arms over her chest and stared at her friend with a worried frown. "That's the least of your worries."

          "What?"

          "I need you to leave me and Nicholas alone to talk to Booth. You're welcome to listen and watch from the bedroom, but we need to do this without your interference," Belle told her softly, her jewel-bright eyes conveying the seriousness of the matter at hand.

          Emma threw her hands up in exasperation. "I wish I'd never come to this town. Everyone here is crazy!"

          "You came here because Henry needs you. We do what we have to for our children."

          For some reason, maybe the expression on Belle's face or the solemnity of her tone, Emma didn't think she was talking about Henry any longer. "Belle, I can't just sit back and let Gold torture someone and not do anything about it. I'll have to take him in as well as an accessory."

          Belle snorted. "Emma, Booth isn't going to press charges. He won't be harmed."  _Much._ "Just let us talk to him. Listen to everything and if we step out of line, I'll help you put the cuffs on Nicholas myself."

          "Belle …"

          "And … I'll owe you a favor," Belle promised, cringing at the thought and what Gold would have to say if he knew she was handing out favors.

          "Everything okay?" Jefferson asked, stepping up behind Emma and holding an ice pack to his nose. At least it wasn't broken. Emma merely grabbed the bottle of scotch in one hand and Jefferson's cravat in the other and dragged him back to the bedroom. On the way, she glared at Gold who couldn't bite back the chuckle which rushed to his lips at her upset. She would listen, and she would watch and the minute any one of them stepped out of line, she would break out her handcuffs and start arresting them. But first, she needed to find her gun.

 

*.*.*

 

          "I think he's coming to, love."

          Booth groaned as he tried to shake off the effects of Jefferson's drugged tea. That was the only possible explanation for the pounding in his head and the nausea roiling in his gut. He'd been fine before he'd accepted the beverage from Madden. But why would someone want to go to such lengths to abduct  _him_?

          He tried moving his arms to find them secured behind him with coarse rope. He was tied securely; he knew as he put most of his strength behind another tug. He wasn't going anywhere until whoever had him decided to let him go. The voice he'd heard sounded vaguely familiar, and he could only pray it wasn't who he suspected. He could try to fool them into thinking he was still unconscious a little longer and tried to keep his breathing steady and his eyes closed.

          "Are you certain?" He definitely recognized that voice.  _That_  voice was sweet and kind, the voice of an angel.  _That_  voice was friendship and camaraderie for everyone she met … the exact polar opposite of her husband. And if she was here, then  _he_  was here also.

          The gold handle of Gold's cane pressed against Booth's jaw and moved his head into an upright position. "Time to waken up, boy," that smooth voice hissed menacingly. Booth cracked an eye open to find both the Golds hovering over him, one smirking and the other staring at him with cool disdain. Well, he certainly hadn't been expecting that from Belle. She'd never been anything but friendly to him before. Her gaze shifted to Gold as her hand wrapped around the cane.

          "Nicholas, we promised not to harm him," she warned. "Why don't you have a seat and perhaps a drink?"

          Gold's mouth pursed into a pout as his eyes narrowed on her. "I don't see why you should get to have all the fun. I think I should get to … participate."

          "Because he seems to be after something which belongs to me, Nicholas. I should be the one to question him," she purred sweetly, taking his hand and pulling him over to an overstuffed armchair and pouring him a tumbler of scotch. "If he fails to answer, then I won't hold you back."

          He rubbed his hands together in anticipation and then accepted the drink from his wife, an impish grin lighting his face. Belle smiled as she always did when that side of him surfaced. She turned back to Booth and gave him her full attention. He seemed to relax against his bonds now that he would be dealing with Belle instead of the pawn broker known for his ruthlessness.

          Belle pulled one of the wooden chairs up next to his left side and sat down, folding her hands primly in her lap as she studied the man. "I do apologize for such methods, but we find them necessary since you haven't been the most truthful visitor to our fair town."

          Booth snorted. "You could have just asked."

          "I suppose," Belle replied, her eyes boring into his. She really didn't care at all for the man. He was a threat to her Rumpel and she wouldn't stand for that. She was very protective of her husband and wouldn't allow someone to hurt him, especially on an emotional level. He'd been hurt too many times in his human  _and_  cursed life to warrant more.

          What would possess this man to pretend to be the Dark One's son? How did he even know of him? The little darkness she'd inherited from the blood bond seemed to spark when she felt the need to protect what was hers, and the man could be thankful she didn't have her magic. "But for some reason I don't think you would have given me the answers I seek."

          "And I'm supposed to believe you'll let me go if I give you those answers?" he asked dubiously. Booth glanced over at Gold, noticing the knuckles of his hand were white and bloodless as he gripped the handle of his cane.

          Belle smiled darkly. "Of course."

          Booth swallowed audibly, realizing he'd been worried about the wrong Gold as he met her gaze. "What do you want to know?"

          Belle smiled at her husband. "See, my darling, I told you he could be reasonable." His eyes darkened dangerously as his lips curled over his teeth in a sneer, but he didn't say anything. He was letting her have her way in this. Belle's smile never faltered as she leaned forward in her chair. "Who are you? And answer truthfully, because I will know if you don't."

          "My name is August W. Booth and I'm a writer. I came to Storybrooke to work on my new novel," he said smoothly.

          Belle's gaze flickered to the cracked bedroom door where Emma was watching. The savior nodded, her gift for being able to detect lies coming in quite handy. "Alright." She fished her phone from the pocket of her skirt and pulled up the picture of the dagger Jefferson had sent her. She held it up, so Booth could see it. His eyes flared briefly, the only sign he made to betray himself. "What do you know of this, Mr. Booth?" she asked, showing him the picture of a drawing of the dagger.

          Booth decided to evade as much as possible. "It is mentioned in some of the folk tales I've been researching."

          "No," Belle said, her voice low and threatening. "There are only four people in this world who know of its existence … and you're not one of them."  _Smack!_  She slapped him hard across his face, drawing a gasp from Gold behind her.

          "Belle!" Gold growled out, calling her down.

          She took a steadying breath and asked again. "How did you learn of the dagger?" she asked, in control of her anger once more. Booth watched her warily as she circled around him.

          "I hear things. I don't travel in the safest circles. My research brings me in contact with certain people …"

          Belle didn't have to glance at the door to know Emma was shaking her head. She knew the man was lying. She came to stand before him and planted her hands on her hips, giving him a look full of disbelief. "Still lying. Lovely." She leaned forward to whisper in his ear. "Maybe I should just let my husband have you. Perhaps I'm being too … _nice_."

          "Look, I don't know what you think I've done, but …"

          Belle's smirk so resembled Gold's it sent a shiver down Booth's spine and his words trailed off into the silence. "I know you're from  _home_ , dear. But I also know you aren't affected by the curse. That can only mean you came before. Would you like to tell me who you are before I tell you who you aren’t?"

          Gold sat back and observed his wife. She was bloody magnificent in her rage, quietly contained and ready to defend. He shifted uncomfortably in the chair and squashed the surge of lust spreading through his body, trying in vain to pay attention. She'd refused to tell him what she had in store for their mystery guest and his curiosity was nearly painful ... among other things.

          Booth grinned unrepentantly up at Belle, his icy blue eyes flashing. "I don't have to tell you anything."

          Belle lashed out and kicked him. Her eyes widened when he didn't move, and she had to sit down and rub her wounded toes. She turned away from him and lifted the hem of her skirt, removing the dagger from a sheath strapped to her thigh. She held it out for him to see, the light catching on Rumpelstiltskin's name etched into the blade. He was nearly salivating, avarice and greed clearly defined in his eyes. "This what you're so desperately seeking, Mr. Booth?"

          "Where did you get that?" he asked, breathless with excitement.

          "Where do you think I got it? It belongs to me," she said sweetly, just before she brought the blade down and plunged it into his thigh. She could hear Emma's muffled shriek and scuffling, but she distracted Booth by gripping his chin in her hand and swinging his head back around to meet her gaze. "Well, well. Now that I know who you are, could you please tell me what I want to know?"

          She could feel Gold's presence at her back as she retrieved the blade and returned it to the sheath at her thigh. Gold stepped over to the bound man and looked at the gash in his jeans. No blood. He stuck his finger in the hole and ripped the fabric, revealing not flesh, but wood? "Seriously, Belle? Bloody Pinocchio?" he asked incredulously. He returned to his chair and sat back heavily, pouring himself another scotch.

          Booth stared at her in resignation. "How did you know?"

          Belle grinned widely, quite pleased with herself. "I'm rather perceptive, Mr. Booth. You tend to rely on tall tales and lies whereas if you were Baelfire, you would have been angry, you would have yelled and screamed at your father and then probably stormed out. Not to mention, Bae has brown eyes like his father, not blue." She took a deep breath and rubbed at her lower back. She should be at home in bed with Gold, not playing good cop bad cop with an idiot. "Now the question remains, why do you want the dagger?"

          "I thought that would be obvious. I'm turning back to wood and I need magic to stop it. If I could control the Dark One with the dagger, I could command him to heal me," he sighed wearily, the truth finally spilling from his mouth.

          Belle smacked him in the back of the head and gave him an incredulous glare. "Has it somehow escaped your notice we're in a land with no magic? Rum can't heal you and he can't be controlled until the curse is broken. Then by some miracle, magic would have to be returned to this land. I take it you know of the curse?"

          Gold mumbled, "I don't know, dearest, you seem to be doing a fine job without magic." She was forced to bite down on her lip to keep from giggling. Booth wasn't amused.

          "How did you come to be here?" she asked, sitting down once more.

          "The wardrobe. The same wardrobe which transported Emma to this world," he admitted.

          Gold leaned forward in his chair, his brow raised in suspicion. "The Charmings were told the wardrobe could only take one."

          "My father agreed to make the wardrobe on one condition … that I was able to go, too. He had the Blue Fairy lie and say it could only take one. It was my job to take care of Emma, one I failed miserably."

          Belle covered her mouth with her hand in horror, tears of grief swimming in her eyes. "Oh, gods! Snow could have come through with her. She could have prepared Emma for what she needed to do." Her voice rose angrily. "Emma could have been with her mother all these years! Do you have any idea what you have done in your selfishness?"

          "My father thought I could take care of her, that I could prepare her for her role," he said wryly, refusing to meet Belle's gaze. "I couldn't do it. We both ended up in the system to suffer together. When I was presented with the opportunity to escape, I took it. It's not like I could go on the run with a baby."

          "So, what?" she asked, her voice breaking with anguish for her friend. "Now you've come back to try to convince her to believe? Why should she trust anything you have to say when your whole life has been based on nothing but lies? The reason you're turning back into wood is because you couldn't keep your promises. You’ve no one to blame but yourself!"

          Booth hung his head in shame. "I realize that. But until my curse consumes me, I'll spend every moment trying to make her believe."

 

*.*.*

 

          Emma felt numb as Jefferson led her to sit on the side of the bed. Her brain had completely disengaged, unwilling to process the load of information which had been forced on it. Jefferson pressed a full glass of alcohol into her shaking hands and she drank it without thinking about it. It crashed to the floor, startled by the slamming of the front door of the cabin.

          Jefferson watched from the window to see Booth sent on his way to walk back into town. It was a small enough punishment for the lies he'd told that evening. He turned to Emma and sat beside her on the bed, wrapping his arms around her and urging her to rest her head on his shoulder. She was cold with shock.

          "Emma, sweetheart? Please say something," he pleaded, rubbing his hands over her arms and trying to restore warmth to her cold skin.

          "It's not true. It can't be. This entire town is looney tunes and now I'm going to join them," she squeaked, her eyes wide and staring, her voice hollow.

          Jefferson pulled back slightly to look at her, his brows disappearing into his hairline. "Emma, he had no idea you were here. Why would he lie for your sake? Everything he said about the curse, about how you came to be in this world, and about your mother is the truth."

          The bedroom door opened to admit Belle and an angry Gold. Belle knelt before her and took one icy hand in hers. "Em, are you alright?"

          "You stabbed him, and he didn't bleed. Not a drop. How is that possible?" she asked, slowly feeling her brain re-engage enough to begin processing the weirdness.

          "How much more is it going to take, Miss Swan?" Gold snapped, rounding on her in disbelief. "It's time for you to realize we're not crazy. Regina cast a curse which brought us all here and took away everyone's happy ending but hers." His eyes flashed fire as his gaze met hers. "You are Princess Emma, daughter to Snow White and Prince Charming, the savior of your realm. Now what are you going to do about it? Sit here and slowly slip into madness, or pull yourself up by your bootstraps and fight?"

          Emma blinked, her gaze not seeing anything around her as she took it all in. She was stuck in a cabin with the Mad Hatter, Belle from Beauty and the Beast - who had just stabbed Pinocchio – and … Rumpelstiltskin. Yes, she was ready for a nice Thorazine drip and the padded room. How could it be possible for so many to be in on it if this was some cosmic joke? And Henry … he believed and had tried so hard to get her to open her eyes to what was going on. He wasn't crazy, and she couldn't say he only believed because he was a kid and didn't know any better. Not when others also believed.

          Belle brushed a lock of her hair behind her ear and smiled warmly at Emma. "You're not alone, Emma. We're here to help you," she promised with all the sincerity she could muster.

          Emma's eyes widened as she looked down on her petite friend, remembering the way she'd handled August. She raised her eyes to Jefferson at her side who nodded encouragingly and then looked up at Gold. "Say there is a curse. How the hell am I supposed to break it? How can I take the Queen down and protect my son?"

          Gold graced her with his half-moon smile. "And that, Miss Swan, is the million-dollar question."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Please remember this is AU before you break out the scourges. I know I said Mary Margaret was getting out of jail in this chapter, but I kinda got sidetracked. Next chapter for sure. Hope you liked Belle's little dark side as much as I liked bringing it out of her. It was bound to happen sooner or later. Can't wait to see what you guys have to say about the new developments. At least our dear savior is finally starting to see the light. (-:


	47. Chapter 47

          Emma stepped under the spray of the shower, reveling in the hot water and its restorative power. Despite her protests, Jefferson had ushered her into the bathroom and laid out towels and toiletries for her to use, claiming a hot shower would help to get over the mild shock she was suffering. He'd even found one of Belle's nightgowns in the dresser for her to put on when she was done. Not that she'd don the silk and lace babydoll with Jefferson just waiting for the opportune moment to pounce on her. She didn't know if she was ready to trust him with so much bare skin for his eyes to feast upon.

          She was feeling vulnerable, like her emotions were raw and laid bare on top of her skin and his kindness and caring were just a bit much for her to bear at the moment. She needed to pool every one of her resources to get through all the new revelations which had been heaped upon her. And she needed to apologize to Henry, for doubting, for patronizing, for believing the curse was just a way for him to deal with his life as Regina's adoptive son.

          It was no longer just a way to bond with her child, but a reality, and it scared her to death. What the hell had her parents been thinking? How could they send her off through a - really? - magical wardrobe and think she could ever possibly be the savior of their realm? She didn't want to think of all those people under the curse who were depending on her. Why her? She was going to have to sit down with Gold and drag more information out of his tight-lipped arse. Not a prospect she was looking forward to. And how the hell was she even supposed to break a curse?

          She rinsed the last of the shampoo out of her hair and turned off the water, stepping out onto the rug and shoving her disturbing thoughts to the back of her mind. She couldn't think about it anymore or her brain was going to explode. She needed sleep. She needed eight hours to let her walls down and not have to be responsible for anyone but herself. Taking deep breaths, she collapsed onto the lip of the tub and dropped her head into her hands.

          She couldn't be selfish. Henry needed her. Mary Margaret needed her. Crap! Her mother was in jail for a crime she hadn't committed. That was going to be an awkward conversation once she got her memory back.  _Sorry I had to arrest you, Mom._ Emma squared her shoulders and slipped the nightgown over her head. Oh, this wasn't going to work. There was no way that revealing scrap of silk was ever going to fit her properly and she couldn't wear it to sleep in the same bed with Jefferson.

          She whipped it back over her head and wrapped a towel around herself, searching the floor for her discarded clothing. Her head jerked up at the soft knock on the bathroom door. Where the hell were her clothes?

          "Emma?"

          "Uh … yeah? I can't find my clothes," she said through the door.

          "I put them in the wash. Doesn't the nightgown fit?" he asked, a smile in his voice.

          "No! It doesn't fit and now I have nothing to put on," she hissed, irritated with his high-handedness. "What the hell am I supposed to sleep in?"

          "Open the door, Emma."

          "No," she napped hurriedly, pressing her body against the barrier in an attempt to keep him out. She could hear clothes rustling on the other side and she was hoping he'd found something else for her to put on.

          "Open the door and stick your hand out so I can pass you something to wear," he replied in a rather condescending tone, as if she had somehow impugned on his honor.

          She did as he asked and pulled a purple button up dress shirt back into the bathroom with her before throwing the lock. "This isn't one of Gold's is it?" she asked in horror.

          Jefferson's warm laughter drifted through the closed door to wash over her in a warm caress. No one should have a laugh that sexy, she thought irritably. "No, rabbit. Just put it on so you can come to bed. You've had a trying night and need some rest."

          She heard him move away from the door as she pulled the shirt on and began pushing the buttons through the holes. The hem hit her mid-thigh, decidedly longer than the gown had been. The cuffs were long and ended at her knuckles. It was soft and warm and would be comfortable to sleep in. She pulled the collar to her nose and inhaled. It was  _his_  shirt, his scent of cedar and pine and something delightfully spicy - which was all Jefferson - intoxicating her. She could feel the heat rising in her face at the thought of climbing into bed with him.  _Oh, hell, how am I going to do this?_

          Emma slowly opened the door and peeked out into the bedroom. He was already in the bed, lying on his stomach, the smooth toned plane of his back exposed to her view. She could do this, she thought as she swallowed around the lump of anticipation forming in her throat. Her toes curled into the soft rug beneath her bare feet as she made her way cautiously to the bed.

          She was being silly. There was nothing to fear from this man. He'd made it plain he wanted her, but he was willing to wait until he could properly court her without her obligations getting in the way. It was her own fears that  _she_  couldn't keep her hands off _him_  making her uneasy.

          "Come on, rabbit, and get in the bed. I promise I won't bite … unless you ask me nicely," he teased, his deep voice muffled by the pillow.

          Emma snorted and eased herself between the cool sheets. She laid down against the pillows with her back to him and sighed, trying to calm her rapidly beating heart. Maybe he had something there when he called her rabbit. "Goodnight, Jeff."

          His arm snaked out to curl over her waist and pulled her back against his bare chest. She shrieked and grabbed his thumb, pulling it to an awkward angle. "Damnit, Emma!" he cursed, jerking his hand away from her as she threw back the covers and leapt from the bed. "What is wrong with you, woman?"

          "Me? You're the one who grabbed me!"

          He propped himself up on an elbow and glared at her, his lips drawn into a thin line. "You just don't know how to accept comfort, do you? Has it really been so missing from your life that you can't deal with having someone care for you and comfort you when you're vulnerable?" He jerked the covers back to reveal his jeans-clad legs. "Nothing is going to happen, Emma."

          The savior grimaced and ducked her head, not knowing how to deal with this situation. Men always wanted something from her. They were never willing to give what Jefferson was so freely offering her. "I'm sorry," she mumbled, edging back toward the bed. "I … uh … I don't trust easily."

          He held out his hand to her, willing her to take it and biting back his surprise when she did. She slid back under the covers and let him pull her against his chest, tucking her head under his chin. He dropped a kiss to her crown and tucked the blankets around her. "I told you, my darling girl. I care for you and I'm not going to jeopardize my chances with you until you're ready. I'm already your friend, Emma. I promise if you give me your trust, I won't betray it."

          She snorted. "You kidnapped me."

          "Technically, I kidnapped Booth. You just came along for the ride," he murmured softly against her hair.

          "I'm not making any promises," she mumbled sleepily. His scent enveloped her, and she pressed her nose closer to his neck, breathing him in. She felt him stiffen as her hand splayed over his stomach.

          He caught her hand and brought it to his lips, pressing a kiss to each of her fingers. "Not a good idea, rabbit. Not yet," he warned, his voice a husky whisper. He placed her hand back on his chest and relaxed back into the pillows. "Go to sleep, my Emma."

          "I can't," she complained, grinning sheepishly against his neck.

          "Whyever not?" he asked, tipping her chin up to meet his smoky grey gaze.

          Her eyes glittered like twin emeralds in the dim light, full of unease. He was, no doubt, going to think her crazy. "Your jeans are scratchy against my legs and I can't get comfortable."

          His brows disappeared into his hairline. "Emma, I don't have any pajamas or anything else to put on. I'm sure Nick has something stashed away here, but I'm not even going attempt to fit into his clothes."

          She sat up and glared at him in disbelief. "Well, don't you have anything on under your jeans? You don't look like the type to go commando," she snapped.

          "Yeah, just my boxers. Emma! This is not helping," he hissed through clenched teeth. His control was hanging on by a thread. He finally had the woman he wanted to have a relationship with, in his bed, and a promise not to touch her hanging between them. Now she was asking him to take his pants off. The gods could really be cruel at times.

          "You're not going to be able to sleep comfortably in them anyway," she reasoned. What was wrong with her that she was actually suggesting this? She gave herself a mental shake to clear her head. "Strictly for comfort, Madden."

          Great! They were back to surnames again. Two steps forward, one step back. Fine! "Alright,  _Swan_. Have it your way." He climbed out of the bed, his hands going to the buttons on his jeans. Emma's eyes never left him as the denim shimmied down his long legs, leaving him clad in his silk boxers. He smirked at the flush staining her cheeks. He slid back into bed and pulled her back into his arms, twining his legs with hers.

          Emma rested her head against his chest, over his heart and wrapped her arm around his waist, her hand resting against his back. She sighed and thought she could definitely get used to sleeping with this man, that she did indeed want him. She'd never been with anyone who made her feel safe before, never anyone who made her feel she didn't have to take on the world by herself, and never someone who was such a gentleman. She could overlook the fact that he could be a little kooky at times and maybe … just possibly she could learn to trust him.

          She raised her head and looked at him, his eyes already closed, his lips parted on a sigh. She trailed her fingertips over his jaw and his eyes opened just a crack to meet her gaze. His breath caught in his chest as she lowered her lips to his to press a soft kiss to his mouth. He let her kiss him, reveling in the softness of her lips and the sweetness of her breath as it fanned his face. He didn't move, afraid to scare her off, letting her have her way. She pulled away and smiled at him, the first real smile he'd ever received from her and he returned it in kind.

          Emma settled back against his chest and sighed contentedly. "Goodnight, Jefferson."

          Jefferson's eyes rolled back in his head as he fought to still his heart. He could've shouted with happiness at that moment, but he merely hugged her tightly and whispered, "Goodnight, my wee rabbit. Sleep well."

 

*.*.*

 

          Belle swung her legs over the side of the bed and scowled at the empty spot where her husband should be sleeping. She distinctly remembered him coming to bed with her, curling up next to him and letting sleep claim her. He'd been so quiet on the way home from the cabin and she couldn't help but wonder if maybe she'd gone a little too far that evening, if maybe she'd crossed a line with him.

          She shook her head, a frown marring her smooth brow. He was the Dark One, the deal maker, the most hated man in their realm. There wasn't a line invented he hadn't crossed. She made her way down the stairs and listened to the quiet house, only one sound meeting her ears. He was in the library at his wheel. She should have known.

          As quietly as she could, she set the kettle on the stove to heat and prepared the tea tray. She grabbed a scrunchie from the junk drawer in the kitchen and dressed her hair in a messy bun as she waited for the tea to steep before carrying the tray into the library. There he was, lost in his own little world of painful memories, not even noticing as she set the tray on the table by the settee to prepare their cups. He started as she sat down next to him and pressed a cup into his hands.

          "Belle …" he murmured as he took the cup from her and sipped gingerly. "Did I wake you? The wheel needs oiling."

          She tilted her head to the side and studied him, taking in the circles beneath his eyes and the tight lines at his mouth. "No, Rum, you didn't wake me. I woke up to go to the bathroom for the umpteenth time and I noticed you weren't where you should be," she said gently.

          He pressed a kiss to her brow, still not meeting her gaze. "You should go back to sleep. I know you don't have class this week because of the spring holiday, but you should still try to sleep in and catch up on your rest."

          Her hand caressed his cheek and he leaned into her palm, letting her touch soothe him. "Talk to me, Rumpel. Are you upset with me?" she asked in a tone which clearly stated she wouldn't leave him be without an answer.

          Brown eyes met blue, his tortured, hers patient. "Of course, not. You've done nothing, my darling Belle." She raised a dubious brow and he rolled his eyes. "I just couldn't sleep."

          "I've upset you. I shouldn't have stabbed Booth and …"

          He set his cup down on the wheel and cupped her face in his hands, leaning in and claiming her lips with his. He poured all of his pent-up feelings into the kiss, his tongue ravaging her mouth. When she was sufficiently breathless and leaning into him weak and needy, he explained. "You were amazing, my Belle. You did nothing wrong. In fact, you did everything right. I've never had anyone stand up for me like that before," he said, his voice full of awe.

          "I love you so much," she whispered, pressing her brow lovingly to his. "I'll always be there to stand beside you and I'll be damned if I let someone hurt you. You've suffered enough in your very long life and I'll not have it any longer. You … _we_ … deserve to be happy, to have our happily ever after."

          Gold's mouth curved up into the genuine smile he reserved for her, the one which curled her toes and stole her breath. "You were brilliant; you know? To uncover his deception."

          Belle hummed pleasantly against the side of his jaw, trying her best to distract him and lure him back to their bed for the night. "That's one of the things you love about me, Rum."

          He sighed as his hand moved to her swollen belly, rubbing soothing circles over the silk covering it. He could sit there for hours, holding her and taking comfort in her mere presence, and the thought that his child,  _their_  child conceived with love, rested beneath her heart. "I love you, my Belle …"

          "But you're saddened because Booth turned out to be someone else. You were hoping he was Baelfire and now you're suffering heartache once more," she finished for him and it just made her furious with the imposter all the more. He rested his head against her shoulder and she smoothed her hand over his hair, letting him draw on her strength and make it his own. It had always been such for them, drawing on each other and making their trials so much easier to bear. "We'll find him, Rumpel. I know we will. We may have to search very hard for him, or he may in turn find you, but I know in my heart you will be reunited with him."

          "Everything … all the deals, the choices I've had to make, the Dark Curse … they've all been for my boy, Belle. All to find my way back to him." He raised his head to meet her gaze, her eyes so full of love for him as he traced the curve of her face with his fingertips. "I've done so many horrible things and yet you've never given up on me, never stopped loving me. You, my Belle … you were the  _best_  deal I ever made. You give me hope."

          Belle rose from the bench and held out her hand to him. "And I won't let you lose that hope, my love." He took her hand in his and let her lead him from the room and back upstairs. He let her wrap him in her embrace in the center of their bed and he slept for the first time in days, her light chasing away his darkness, her love bathing him in peace.

 

*.*.*

 

          Belle stood at the widow in Archie Hopper's office and gazed down at the street below. Nicholas had dropped her off an hour ago for her surveillance shift with the good doctor, figuring she'd be safest with him. She could see the library, the diner, the pawnshop and various other establishments from her vantage point.

          Jefferson and Emma had stopped by earlier to check in and she couldn't help but notice the blush on  _both_  of their faces. She'd corner them each separately later and inquire on their budding relationship. She wasn't being nosy, she convinced herself. She was just being a friend, ready with advice if warranted. She hoped Emma would be able to find happiness with Jefferson. They would be good for each other.

          She rubbed her lower back and sipped her tea as she watched the residents of Storybrooke continue on with another day, never guessing they had a whole other life in their heads, waiting to be unlocked. Her gaze was continually drawn to the library. Gold had laughed when she'd asked about why the library was closed. He'd said no one would want to work there if they knew a dragon was residing in the basement. She'd volunteered to open it and be the new librarian, but he'd gone all stony-faced and given her a resounding NO. He'd said it in a way she’d known better than to argue.

          It would be nice, though, to be surrounded by books and children and other people who loved to read as much as she did. Perhaps she might be able to convince him once the curse had been broken and they were rid of the malevolent creature in the basement. She could only hope the end was near now that Emma's eyes had been opened to the truth.

          Emma and Jefferson were on the sidewalk below headed to his car. They were once again going to stake out the Mayor's office that day, sans August. Belle swore softly under her breath as she watched August step into their path. Emma stiffened and balled her fists at her sides as she yelled at the man. Belle would have handed out favors left and right to be able to hear what she was telling him. August responded shortly, and Emma socked him. Jefferson burst out laughing and followed her down the sidewalk, leaving a very aggrieved Mr. Booth lying there rubbing his jaw.

          "What has you so amused, Belle?" Archie asked, coming to stand beside her and gazing down at the scene below. "Oh, w-what happened there, do you suppose?"

          Belle's soft tinkle of laughter drifted through the room. "August offended Emma and she socked him one." David Nolan and Ruby rushed from the diner across the street and helped Booth up off the ground, Ruby fawning over him, her body language holding a promise to make it all better. "Really, Ruby? I thought you had better taste than that," she murmured under her breath.

          Henry hurried out of the diner, a chocolate chip cookie stuffed in his mouth as he swung his backpack over his shoulder and rushed off in the direction of the pawnshop, Paige at his side.

          Archie watched as well, a small smile on his face. "I've … uh … cleared my schedule today to help. I only kept Henry's appointment scheduled for three o'clock. Do you have a plan?"

          Belle continued to survey the street below. "As a matter of fact, I do. We're going to watch that door," she said, pointing to the offices of the  _Daily Mirror, "_ and wait for Mr. Glass to put in an appearance. Then we're going to follow him. Simple."

          Archie put a hand to her shoulder and pointed out the man in question as he strode around the corner where the library sat. "Only he's not at the  _Mirror_."

          Belle's eyes narrowed with suspicion. "But he's always at the  _Mirror_  at this time of the morning. Maybe he's running late," she mused. The collar of his coat was pulled up high around his neck and his fedora was pulled low over his brow, but there was no mistaking it was the editor of the newspaper.

          She wondered what he could have done for the mayor to secure his job after she'd fired him. He was headed in the direction of his office, but something about the way he carried himself, an air of nervousness which surrounded him, sent alarm bells ringing in her head. The man cast his eyes in every direction and eased into the alley leading behind the library.

          "Archie, where does that alley lead?"

          "I believe it leads to a rear entrance of the library and to the stairs belonging to the apartment above."

          Excitement rushed through her veins at the prospect of uncovering another piece of the mystery of Kathryn Nolan's disappearance. Not for a moment did she think the woman was dead. It had to be just another of Regina's intrigues to bring misery to her nemesis. "Come on, Archie, let's go see what he's up to."

          "Shouldn't we call your husband … or Emma and let them know what we're doing? We're supposed to keep the others informed," he said, grabbing his coat and following her out the door of his office.

          "I don't want to pull them off their assignments until we know something concrete. We can do this ourselves, Archie," she argued, holding tightly to the rail as she descended the stairs.

          Belle convinced Archie to go to the diner and have a cup of coffee while she slowly walked to the library, asking him to meet her at the mouth of the alley in ten minutes. It might look a bit suspicious to go there together. She was still seeing him once a month as his patient and she didn't need the gossip mill to churn up some outrageous scandal which would reach her husband's ears.

          Gold still worried about her safety, sending Dove to check on her whenever his panic level rose too high. She was actually surprised he hadn't found a way to put a tracking device on her person, especially now that she was pregnant and had their little one to think about.

          The time seemed to creep by at a snail's pace as she waited for the doctor to join her. She breathed a sigh of relief when he appeared at her elbow and led her to the rear door of the library. "Belle, the door isn't going to be open. The library has been locked up tight for years." He scratched his head. "Actually, I can't remember it  _ever_  being open."

          Belle pulled on the heavy metal door and raised an eyebrow at Archie. "After you, cricket," she grinned, causing him to blush at what he thought of as an endearment of friendship. She stifled a nervous laugh and followed him into the building. She covered her mouth with her hand as the smell of must and mold assailed her nose.

          It was dank and dark, and downright creepy, she thought as she pulled a pocket-sized flashlight from her purse and shined it on the many stacks laden with dust and old books. Her fingers itched to comb through the many volumes looming in the dim light, but she forced herself to refrain. They weren't there to check out books. This was about the missing woman and finding a way to gain Mary Margaret's release.

          They couldn't split up because of only having the one flashlight, and the search took longer than Belle had hoped, but they came up empty-handed. A sense of unease had fallen over them, and Belle was only too happy when Archie suggested they leave.

          Once outside in the fresh air, Belle took in deep breaths to clear her lungs of the overwhelming decay of the library. It was like a physical pain to see all those books left to rot when people could be enjoying them. Archie pointed out the stairwell leading to the caretaker's apartment above. "Do you still want to investigate? I still say we should call Emma. What if we get caught and charged with breaking and entering?" he asked with a worried frown.

          "Archie, Emma is not going to arrest us. We are all in this together." She placed her hand on his forearm and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "It's going to be fine."

          Belle led the way up the metal staircase and once again paused with her hand on the knob, waiting for him to join her on the landing. Once again, the door knob twisted easily beneath her hand. The apartment was sparsely furnished as they entered through the kitchen. The faucet dripped and the table and chairs which rested against the wall was in disrepair.

          "We really shouldn't be in here," Archie hissed in a whisper filled with anxiety just a hare's-breath from full-blown panic. She waved a hand to silence him and moved through the doorway into the living room, refusing to let her own fear stop her from her task. 

 _Do the brave thing,_ she chanted in her head. Really, what was there to be frightened of? She had her phone, so surely, she would be able to call for help if she needed it. And if Gold didn't hear from her by lunchtime, he'd no doubt be calling the cellular company to track her phone. Sometimes it paid to have an overprotective imp as her husband.

          A moldy looking sofa sat against the wall and the carpet covering the wood floors had seen better days, but the walls were bare, the drywall cracked in several places.

          "Come on," she whispered, tugging on his sleeve as she headed toward the hallway where the bedrooms were sure to be located. Her eyes took in everything as she moved to the first bedroom only to find it empty. It was the second bedroom which brought them both up short, Belle's mouth letting forth a startled gasp at the sight before her.

          Kathryn Nolan was lying on the single bed in the room, pale and wan in the feeble light coming from the bare window. Archie rushed to her side, taking her wrist in his hand and checking for a pulse. "Belle, call 911 and have an ambulance sent here."

          "She's alive?" she asked, fishing her phone from the pocket of her jeans. Before she could slide her thumb across the screen to activate the phone, an arm slipped around her neck and she was hauled roughly against a hard, male chest, the phone dropping to the carpeted floor as she emitted a frightened shriek. She hoped Gold heard her from the pawnshop. She glanced up to see a pistol pointed at Archie, who moved back against the window with his hands up in a motion of surrender.

          "Now, S-Sydney, don't do anything you're going to regret," the doctor stammered fearfully, never taking his eyes from the gun pointed at him in warning. "You don't want to hurt anyone, especially Belle. No one wants the wrath of Gold brought down on their heads."

          If she hadn't been scared out of her wits, she would have rolled her eyes at that comment. "Sydney, just let us go."

          "Well, I can't just do that now, can I?" he hissed against her ear. "You two have ruined everything." He dragged Belle along with him as he opened a drawer on the dresser and removed a roll of duct tape, tossing it to Archie who glanced at him questioningly. He thrust Belle in the doctor's direction, now pointing the gun at both of them. "Tie her up, Hopper."

          "What? She's pregnant. You can't just leave her here," he cried, trying to reason with the manic man. "This isn't you, Sydney. Don't let this mistake ruin your life."

          "Shut up, Hopper. You have no idea what kind of pressure I'm under. Now I'm going to have to leave town before Emma Swan discovers this place. I'm certain I can find some place to start over."

          Archie taped Belle's hands together loosely in front of her and sat her down on the bed next to Kathryn's prone body and began working on taping her ankles. Belle looked at Sydney imploringly. "You don't want to do this, Sydney. We can get you help. Nicholas can help you if you turn yourself in."

          Glass set his gun down on the dresser and began working on binding Archie, taping his hands behind his back. "Gold would never help me after he finds you here. I just need enough time to get out of Storybrooke, then I'll call the sheriff and have her release you," he said, his eyes holding a hint of madness as he looked at Belle. "I didn't mean for this to get out of hand. If she …" he blanched, realizing he'd already said too much. He rose to his feet and retrieved the gun from the dresser, moving to the door. "I'm sorry," he mumbled and closed the door behind him, leaving them and the apartment for the last time, intent on escape.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I am so terrible for leaving you with a cliffhanger, aren't I? Sorry, sorry, sorry … not really. This was just a really long chapter and I had to cut if off at a decent stopping point. Fear not, you won't have to wait long for the next update. Can't wait to see what you guys think. Thank you so much for all the lovely reviews and favorites and followers. Thanks so much for reading!


	48. Chapter 48

          "Archie, just take a deep breath and don't panic," Belle said, working at her bound wrists with her teeth. She was thankful Archie had bound her wrists in front rather than behind her back. If she could have somehow been able to lower herself to the floor and scoot to where her purse lay next to the door, she could have managed to dig out the small pocket knife she kept in there. But she didn't want to take the chance of falling and hurting herself or the baby.

          She heard her cell phone chirp from under the bed, where Sydney had kicked it. There was no way she could retrieve it until she got herself loose, unable to stretch out far enough, bound as she was, to reach it.

          "We never should have come up here without alerting the others," he said reasonably. He had to admire her for her bravery under the current circumstances. He knew women who would have been an emotional wreck, reduced to tears and screaming. Then again, she  _was_  married to the town pariah and nerves of steel had to come with the territory.

          The tape finally gave way beneath her sharp teeth and she ignored him as she stretched her hands out and lowered herself to the floor. It took her a few moments, but she was finally able to scoot across the floor to retrieve the knife from her purse. She was cutting through Archie's bonds when she heard her phone chirp again.

          "Archie, do you have your phone with you?"

          He ducked his head sheepishly and groaned. "N-No, I forgot it at the office."

          Belle shot him a look blistering enough to have scorched granite. "It's alright, Archie, but I'm going to need you to help me get mine from beneath the bed." That was the second time Gold had tried to call and she could just picture him in the back room of the shop nearly frantic when he couldn't reach her. "Go try the front door and I'll call Emma," she urged as he rose from the floor and pressed the phone into her hands.

          Her hands were shaking, and she nearly dropped the phone before she was able to calm herself enough to make her fingers work. Emma answered on the third ring. "Belle? What's up?"

          "I know you're with Jeff. Put the phone on speaker so you can both hear me," she commanded, trying to keep the breathless tone from her voice. She didn't need anyone else flying into a panic.

          "Belle, what's wrong," Jefferson asked without preamble.

          "Get to the town line. Sydney's trying to leave Storybrooke and you need to get to him before he can."

          "What?" Jefferson and Emma screeched simultaneously.

          "I can't talk, Jeff. Just do it!" Belle replied and hung up the phone, never doubting he'd do as she asked. She punched in the number for 911 and asked that they send an ambulance to their location. Archie came in and told her they were trapped in the apartment. There were bars on all the windows and Sydney had locked both the deadbolts before abandoning them there.

          She argued with the operator, telling her, "No, I can't stay on the bloody line. Just get them here as soon as possible," and hung up.

          Belle cringed inwardly as she pressed Gold's number on speed dial. He'd called three more times while she'd been on the phone with the 911 operator and she knew he'd probably reached the stage in his anger where he was ready to commit violence. He answered on the first ring.

          "Where the bloody hell are you, madam?!" She held the phone away from her ear, fearing she was going to permanently lose her hearing. "Do you have any idea how worried I've been?"

          "Rumpelstiltskin, shut up and listen," she snapped, her own anger making itself evident in her hostile tone.

          "I beg your pardon!"

          "I need you to come to the apartment over the library and get me out of here. So, stop yelling at me. I need you," her voice broke at the last and she covered her mouth with her hand to keep him from hearing her distress. "And you might want to bring your lock-picking kit with you."

          Belle could hear the door to the shop open over the line and rushed to the windows in the other bedroom overlooking the street. "Belle, what's happening? Talk to me," he shouted into the phone to be able to be heard over the street noise.

          "Archie and I found Kathryn, Sydney tied us up and left us here, and he's trying to leave Storybrooke …" Her voice trailed off as the sound of sirens sounded in the street. She lost sight of Gold as he turned into the mouth of the alley. She ended the call and rushed to the kitchen to peer through the window which gave her a clear view of the stairs and landing.

          The paramedics were right behind Gold as he began to work on the lock, his trembling hands slowing his progress. If he would have had his magic, the door would have probably blown from the hinges before he could've put his foot on the first step and he cursed this land for having no magic. Why couldn't Baelfire have chosen a land with no unicorns? Or a land with no fairies? No, he had to choose one with no magic.

          Gold finally got the door open and reached in to haul Belle out by her wrist, dragging her down the stairs to get out of the way of the EMS workers. Archie could show them to the missing woman. Gold was only concerned with Belle.

          A low growl erupted from his throat as he noticed the red marks on her wrists left by the tape as he searched her for injuries. "Rum, I'm fine," she said, pushing his hands away.

          Now that he was assured she wasn't injured, his anger came back with a vengeance. "What were you thinking, Belle!? What if you'd been hurt? You never think! You rush blindly into danger and don't care a wit for your own safety," he railed in his fury. They were drawing a crowd and Belle was close to losing her own temper.

          She crossed her arms over her chest and raised a brow, her lips curling into a smirk. "At least Sydney didn't shoot us."

          "What?!"

          "I said …"

          "I heard what you said! Gods, Belle!" He hauled her against his chest and gripped the back of her head in his hand, the only warning he gave her before he took her mouth in a kiss borne of panic and worry and relief she'd come away from danger unscathed. "I could've lost you," he hissed between kisses.

          Belle kissed him right back, the stress and fear she'd been suffering draining from her under the onslaught of his lips. "I'm sorry, Rum."

          He pulled away slightly to meet her tear-filled gaze. "I'm locking you in the basement until the babe is born," he vowed before he kissed her again.

          "No, you won't," Belle chuckled, smiling against his lips as his passion settled into soft sipping kisses.

          "Fine, I'll lock you in the bedroom."

          She scraped her nails along his nape and grinned again as he shivered. "No, you won't. Not unless you lock yourself in with me," she teased.

          "Gold, you're making a public spectacle of yourself," a sneering voice sounded behind them and Gold stiffened, his arms tightening painfully around Belle. He took a moment to watch the paramedics carry Kathryn Nolan down the stairs on a stretcher before he felt composed enough to turn and face Regina.

          His lips were curled away from his teeth, gold tooth glinting in the feeble afternoon light as he met her venomous gaze. "Ah, Madam Mayor, last I checked, there was no law against being able to kiss my wife in public," he snarled, stepping closer until he was close enough to invade her personal space. He gave her kudos for standing her ground and not flinching away from his wrath.

          Regina smiled hatefully, her eyes shooting icy daggers at him. "I'll have to see what I can do to change that," she snarked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. She glanced over his shoulder at one of Emma's deputies and frowned as she watched him take a statement from Archie Hopper. "It seems I missed all the true excitement."

          Gold chuckled, the sound not matching the fury in his deep brown eyes. "Yes, I suspect you did." He followed her gaze to Hopper. "Perhaps we can get the deputy to take a statement from you as well, dearie. One where you spill all your secrets, about how this was all your idea and poor Mr. Glass was just your puppet."

          It was Regina's turn to laugh, the sound sending icy chills along Belle's spine as she watched the confrontation, her hand still gripped tightly in her husband's. "You have no proof," she challenged. She leaned forward to whisper, so no one would overhear her bold statement. "And you of all people should know Sydney would never go against me."

          Her smile was victorious, and it made his blood boil. He cast her a wolfish smile, his eyes taking on a predatory gleam. "How soon we seem to forget, your majesty."

          "Forget what?" she asked, fighting back the unease his calculating smile evoked in her.

          "You forget it is by my goodwill you have what you do. I can very easily have you confess to Emma Swan every crime you have committed in your efforts to destroy poor Miss Blanchard. And all I have to do is say one. Little. Word."

          The color drained from Regina's face and she shrank away from him. "You wouldn't dare."

          "Try me," he hissed, his eyes boring into hers. "You are at my mercy until you are no longer useful to me, Regina. Don't forget that." He turned on his heel in the direction of the sheriff's station, pulling Belle along with him and leaving the mayor staring after him with a look of apprehension twisting her cruel features, the blare of the siren ringing in the air as it pulled onto the street.

 

*.*.*

 

          "Merciful God, Jeff! Where the hell did you get your driver's license … a cereal box?" Emma shrieked, fear draining the color from her face as she held on to the dash of Jefferson's car with one hand and tightening her seatbelt with the other as he rounded another curve. She could swear for a minute there that they'd only been on two wheels. "Would you please slow down before you kill us?"

          "Have dinner with me and Grace tonight. You and Henry?" he asked calmly, the wheel steady beneath his capable hands as they sped to the edge of town.

          "You're crazy! This is not how you get me to go on a date with you!" she exclaimed, staring at him as if he were truly mad. How could he be so calm and drive like a maniac?

          "Emma, I am not going to wreck. Just sit back and relax. I've had twenty-eight years of boredom waiting for the citizens of Storybrooke to wake up. Driving fast just seemed to alleviate the boredom at times," he shrugged with a mischievous smile as he ran his hand lovingly over the steering wheel of the nineteen seventy-eight Pontiac Trans Am he kept in mint condition. "And I'm not driving like this to get you to go out with me," he said defensively. "I just wanted you and Henry to come to dinner with me and Grace."

          Emma fought down a wave of nausea as they hit a straight patch of road and the speedometer climbed. "Pick me up at eight." She couldn't help but return the blinding smile he cast her with a nervous one of her own.

          Jefferson slowed the car in a squeal of tires as the town line came into sight, coming to rest sideways, inches from Sydney's Oldsmobile, the hood billowing smoke. He opened the door and jumped out, rounding the car and coming to stand beside Emma who had drawn her gun. He pulled his own gun from an ankle holster and raised it before him, shrugging as Emma shook her head at him in disbelief. The windshield was shattered and there was no sign of the driver. There was blood all over the dash and steering wheel.

          "Your call, Emma," he said, his eyes scanning the brush leading into the woods. She moved to his side, edging forward cautiously when she heard it. Laughter. Insane, maniacal laughter. Jefferson quirked a brow at her, but didn't lower his weapon. They followed a path marked with blood spatter for about five or so feet before they found the driver. He'd made it over the town line before he'd collapsed, no doubt from blood loss if the head wound he sported was any indication. It was deep and bleeding freely.

          Emma returned her weapon to her side holster at her hip and ripped the bottom of her tank top off to use as a bandage until help could arrive. "Jeff, what are you doing? Give me a hand," she called over her shoulder. He was standing on the Storybrooke side of the town line, unmoving. "Jeff!"

          "I can't cross. I don't think I would be in danger of injury, but there's something else keeping me on this side. It won't let me pass," he said, his brow creased in confusion.

          "The curse?" she asked wearily. She swore as he nodded. "Call 911 and get an ambulance out here."

          "I think the only reason Glass made it across was because he was thrown from the car. Emma, you're going to have to drag him back across the line. EMS won't be able to cross either," he told her as he punched in the number.

          "Great! Just great!" she snarled as she grabbed the man under his arms and started dragging him back through the brush. Jefferson let her know when she'd gone far enough, and she dropped down to her knees, panting and out of breath from her exertion.

          He hung up with the operator and sat down next to Emma, winding an arm around her shoulders and urging her to rest her head against his chest. She gave in, sinking into his warmth and taking a moment to let her breathing come back to a normal rhythm. Now all they could really do was sit back and wait for the paramedics to arrive. She grabbed a handful of his cravat and pulled him in for a quick kiss, leaving him stunned by her spontaneity. She grinned up at him and asked, "So, what are we having for dinner?"

 

*.*.*

 

          Belle was bouncing on the balls of her feet, tears of happiness streaming down her face as the cell door opened and Mary Margaret walked into her arms. She hugged her friend who couldn't be more relieved she'd been released. Emma had gone to the hospital with Sydney and sent her deputy to let Mary Margaret out of the cell. She would take care of the paperwork when she finally got a moment. Thanks to statements given by Archie and Belle about Sydney's involvement in holding Mrs. Nolan prisoner, the charges against Mary Margaret had been dropped and she was now a free woman.

          Gold offered them a handkerchief and stepped back into the hallway to give them time to rid themselves of their tears. He'd never been able to cope with Belle's tears, and seeing they weren't going to let up anytime soon, he decided to give them some privacy. He'd already made sure the necessary paperwork was completed on his end. All Emma would have to do was type up her report to put with it and sign off. Chalk one up for the good guys, he thought and then blanched. When had he begun to think of himself as one of those? He was left to wonder what Regina would do next in their never-ending war.

          "Belle, I don't know what I would've done if it weren't for you and Mr. Gold. How can I ever repay you," Mary Margaret cried in a tear-filled voice as she walked out of the station a free woman, not even the overcast sky casting a pall of her joy.

          Gold trailed behind them down the sidewalk as they headed to Granny's for hot chocolate and a stiff tumbler of scotch for him. "Oh, that's easy, dearie. You'll owe us a favor."

          Belle cast him a scathing glance over her shoulder and admonished, "Nicholas."

          He shrugged and grinned at his wife as he held the door open for them to enter. "Don't listen to him, Mary Margaret. It will be enough to have you back at school. It's been quite a trial there without you." She slid into the booth opposite her friend and made room for Gold to sit next to her. "And tomorrow night, after you've had some decent rest in your own bed, Nicholas and I are going to throw you a welcome home party."

          "Oooh, that sounds like fun," Ruby said, sidling up to the table to take their order and offer Mary Margaret a hug. "Then when everyone goes home, we can make it into a sleepover. I'm sure we can get Emma to stay, too, and maybe Ashley."

          Belle raised a brow which clearly said she didn't like the last part of that plan. "I'm sure Ashley has better things to do than join us for a sleepover," she gritted out through clenched teeth.

          Ruby sniggered, her hand on her hip as she regarded Belle. "Are you ever going to tell me why you dislike Ashley so much?"

          "No," she said and left it at that. There were few people Belle truly disliked, her kind nature not allowing her to hold grudges, but she doubted she'd ever be able to tolerate the pompous princess formerly known as Cinderella. Come to think of it, Belle's very short list contained only the names of those who had in some way wronged her husband.

          "Fine," Ruby shrugged, writing down their order on her little pad. "I'll just have to ask her." She flounced off to disappear behind the counter with a satisfied smirk.

          "Really, Belle," Mary Margaret stammered, uncomfortable with the thought of a party. Just before she'd been arrested, she'd had to deal with the stigma of being known as the town harlot. It's not like anyone would even come to the party, especially with it being held at Mr. Gold's house. "It's not necessary to throw a party," she said, glancing down at the napkin she was shredding between her fingers.

          It was Gold who spoke up. "Nonsense, Miss Blanchard. I think it would do you ladies good to spend time together and have a wee bit of fun. The four of you can lock yourselves away in the library and do … whatever it is you ladies do at those type of functions," he said, grinning warmly at Belle.

          Emma and Jefferson came in the door, his fingers entwined tightly with hers and made their way over to the booth. Emma sat down on the vinyl seat with Mary Margaret and wrapped her arm about her shoulders. Jefferson pulled a chair over and perched at the end of the table. "Kathryn doesn't remember anything that happened after her car went in the ditch. Whale thinks she might've been kept drugged since her disappearance," she told them all, waving at Ruby to bring her a hot chocolate and a cup of tea for Jefferson.

          Gold took a long swallow of his scotch as Ruby delivered their drinks. "Do you have any leads on who doctored the DNA results on the heart Ruby found?"

          "No, but I've opened an investigation," Emma said, yawning widely.

          His hand fisted on the table and didn't relax until Belle covered it with her own delicate digits. "Seems her majesty is going to get away with another one," she groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose to relieve the tension building behind her eyes.

          "I'm sorry, what?" Mary Margaret asked, a puzzled frown on her smooth brow. "Her majesty?"

          Emma shook her head and looked over at her mother, the first time she'd really looked at her since deciding to accept the truth. "Don't worry, Mary Margaret. We'll tell you about it later."

 

*.*.*

 

          Regina stormed into her home office and in a fit of rage, swept the entire contents of her desk onto the floor. "Damn him!" she hissed furiously, resting her palms against the now bare surface, her mouth moving silently as she cursed Gold under her breath. She hated to admit it bothered her that he had spoken so honestly when he'd threatened her. She really was at his mercy and it left her queasy and nervous over what he was going to do to her if the curse were ever broken.

          And that silly love-sick fool, Sydney Glass. She should have known better than to trust him to carry out a simple task. It's not as though she'd asked him to kill anyone. Kathryn was the closest thing to a friend she had in this town. She hadn't wanted her killed, just incapacitated for a while. Then once Mary Margaret had been dealt with, she would have been found. Now her nemesis was without a doubt, off celebrating her freedom with her insipid friends.

          Regina glared at the mirror gracing the wall to her left. Why should Gold be the only one in this town to have a measure of happiness? Him and his precious Belle. She snarled at her reflection, her eyes narrowing dangerously. She was in this mess because of the curse  _he_ had given her. It was her happy ending it was supposed to bring about. He'd tricked her, claiming all the happiness for himself.

          And Jefferson, she had plans for him as well. If it hadn't been for his nosing around, Gold never would've found his precious little wife. Now they were expecting a baby. The thought made her flesh crawl. It did seem there was someone for everyone, but the thought of Rumpelstiltskin and his darling maid … wife … whatever, doing the deed. She hoped she wasn't out of antacids.

          She made a mental note to see Whale as soon as possible. She would swear Gold was giving her an ulcer. She'd take care of them all, she thought, her lips curving in a venomous smile. Just as soon as she took care of Snow White and her troublesome daughter. Yes, she decided, Emma would be the first to go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I know this is a shorter chapter than what I usually write, but I'm trying to give you guys a resolution to the cliffhanger from last chapter. Hope you all enjoyed. Really want to know what you think. Lovely, fun and fluffy goodness coming your way soon. Thanks again so much for all your kind words and support. You guys are the best. Thanks so much for reading.


	49. Chapter 49

          "Please tell me you're not wearing that," Mary Margaret cringed, surveying the jeans, boots, tank top and leather jacket encasing Emma's lithe frame as she came down the stairs, ready for her dinner date with Jefferson and their respective children.

          Emma glanced down at herself with a puzzled frown. "I was planning on it. Why? What's wrong with it? I always dress this way."

          "Exactly. You're going on a date, Emma, not a stakeout," Mary Margaret sighed. Then she began to feel guilty, not knowing whether or not Emma even owned appropriate clothes to go on a date. She'd only ever seen her in jeans the entire time she'd been living in Storybrooke.

          "Mary Margaret, um … I don't … what's wrong with my clothes?" she huffed indignantly, suddenly feeling self-conscious. Jefferson had never complained about her clothes; why would he start now? She'd caught him staring at her behind often enough to know he  _liked_  her jeans.

          Mary Margaret grimaced. "Emma, honey, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you doubt yourself. But you seem to be really interested in Jefferson and … would it really be so bad to let him see your softer side? Er … do you even have a softer side?" she asked, trying to push Emma's tough-as-nails façade aside to envision the gentle woman she knew to be underneath it all.

          "What do you suggest?" Emma asked, shrugging out of her jacket.

          "Would you consider wearing a dress?" Mary Margaret inquired, pulling Emma along behind her to raid her closet. "I think I have just the thing."

 

**Twenty minutes later …**

 

          "He's going to think I did this all for him," Emma pouted, standing before the full-length mirror hanging on the back of the closet door and frowning at her reflection. The soft leaf green dress hugged her frame in all the right places and the modest square neckline showed just the right amount of cleavage. It had never looked that good on her roommate.

          Mary Margaret grinned as she stood behind her, doing up the zipper and running her hands over Emma's shoulders to smooth the fabric into place. "You look beautiful and Jefferson is going to think so too."

          Emma brushed a lock of hair behind her ear and wondered if she should pull it back instead of leaving it long and loose about her shoulders. Why should she have to go out of her way to try to impress him? A little voice niggled at her in the back of her mind.  _Because you really like this one. He's different. He sees you for who you really are, and he truly likes what he sees._  "We're just going to have dinner at his house and watch a movie with the kids. I don't see why I have to wear a dress."

          "Trust me, Emma. When he sees you in this dress, you'll understand," Mary Margaret chuckled. They both startled as a knock sounded on the door of the loft. Emma's eyes widened nervously, and she had to bite back a groan, knowing now it was too late to back out of her date. "Don't panic. You look great, you're going to dinner with a nice man and you're going to have a great time."

          Emma smoothed her trembling hands over her skirt and opened the door. Jefferson stood on the other side, a bright smile on his lips which faded into one of awe as he took her in, his light grey eyes darkening noticeably with longing.

          "Uh … wow! You look beautiful, rabbit," he murmured huskily, stepping close to her and running his fingertips along the side of her face. His presence in her personal space made her heart accelerate and the breath hitch in her chest. All she could think about was how much she wanted this man as he gently brushed his lips to hers. Her eyes closed for just a moment, lost in the simple pleasure of his brief kiss only to have them open again as something else touched her mouth. The intoxicating smell of roses assailed her nose as he brushed the petals of one long-stemmed white rose against her lips. "For you, my darling," he said, stepping back to present her with his gift.

          Mary Margaret blushed and looked away to gather her composure, thinking his gesture was very romantic. She'd never seen Emma taken with anyone like that in all the time she'd known her. "Ahem," she interrupted, clearing her throat.

          Jefferson winked at Mary Margaret and bowed to her. "Mary Margaret, it is a pleasure to see you this evening," he said courteously. "I hope you don't mind me taking Emma away from you on your first night home."

          The school teacher waved her hand as if it were of no consequence and smiled. "Not at all. I hope the two of you have a wonderful evening. I have plenty to occupy myself."

          Emma raised a brow and glanced at her over her shoulder as she let Jefferson help her on with the black wool coat Mary Margaret had loaned her. "Really? You're going to veg of in front of the TV, aren't you?"

          "No. I'm going to be on the phone with Ruby and Belle trying to figure out what we're going to do for the party tomorrow night." She shooed them toward the door, picking up her cell phone from the kitchen counter. "Have a good time, you two."

          Emma took a moment to put the rose he'd given her in a vase before she let him usher her out of the apartment and downstairs to the car where Henry and Paige were sitting in the back seat with their heads together looking at something on Paige's phone and giggling. "Henry, I'm surprised Regina let you out of the house this evening since you're coming to Mary Margaret's welcome home party tomorrow night."

          Henry grinned at her brightly. "Mom had to work late tonight and said I could have dinner at Paige's. Tomorrow night is going to be a bit trickier."

          "Why is that?" Jefferson asked, spearing the boy with a look in the rearview mirror as he drove through town towards his home on the outskirts of Storybrooke.

          "Well … actually she thinks I'm staying at your house instead of at Mr. Gold's. I mean, Paige is going to be staying with me, so I really am going to be with who I said I was going to be with, she just doesn't know I won't actually be at your house," Henry explained, ducking his head sheepishly.

          Emma glared incredulously over her shoulder at her son. The boy was sneaky as the day was long. He also had an uncanny knack for pulling the wool over Regina's eyes as no one else could. "One of these days, you're going to get caught up in one of your fibs and she's going to lock you up somewhere and never let you out."

          Jefferson snorted. "Yeah. Look what she did to poor Belle. Regina's lucky Nick didn't kill her over that one."

          Jefferson pulled up the long drive and handed the takeout boxes to Henry and Paige, leaving him to help Emma out of the car. He shut the door behind her and pressed her against the side of the car, resting his brow to hers and inhaling deeply. She smelled of cinnamon and chocolate and Emma and he was completely intoxicated by her. She planted her hands firmly on his chest, her gaze on his mouth.

          "You need to stop eating me with your eyes, rabbit. It seems you are very quickly destroying my self-control," he murmured, his voice dropping into a husky whisper. His hands rested on either side of her on the roof of the car and it was taking everything he had not to claim her lips in a bruising kiss.

          Her voice, when it came, was nearly as breathless as his. "What's stopping you, Jefferson?" she asked, her hands inching up to wrap around his shoulders, her fingers toying with the hair at his nape as she lifted her eyes to his. And there he saw all the pent-up desire and raw emotion which mirrored in his own.

          "I'm trying to show you the respect you deserve, Emma darling. I want to show you I'm not in this for just a quick roll in the hay." He pressed his cheek to hers, so his breath fanned her ear as he spoke. "I don't just want your delectable body. I want your heart and I want your love," he said, trailing his warm lips along her jaw to the corner of her mouth. "I want all of you, Emma."

          A tiny whimper escaped her lips and she held onto him as she felt the strength leave her legs. His arms coiled around her waist to keep her from falling. "What if … what if that's more than I can give?" she asked, clinging to him, his words melting the icy walls she'd built up around her heart. No one had ever claimed to want what he was asking for and she found herself desperately wanting to give it to him.

          "Can't you feel it, Emma? This connection between us that's building with every moment we spend together?" he asked, lifting his gaze to hers. "You consume my every waking thought. The need to be with you, talking, laughing, holding you in my arms is all I can think about. I feel as though a part of me was missing before I met you," he said passionately, needing her to understand. "Just don't push me away, rabbit. Let me love you."

          Emma pulled his head down and pressed her lips to his. She wanted what he was offering so badly. "I don't want to get hurt again, Jeff."

          "I won't hurt you, Emma. I will protect you, care for you and love you, but I will never hurt you," he declared, pouring out his heart to her and giving her the choice to accept it or crush it as she saw fit. He'd never put so much of himself into anything before aside from his love for Grace. He knew he was taking a risk, but no one had ever affected him, drawn out so much emotion in him, as this woman wrapped so securely in his arms. "Let me love you, my Emma."

          Emma felt like she was drowning in a storm-tossed sea and he was her lifeline. Her head was telling her she was crazy, that he would use her just like everyone else in her life had always done. Her heart was screaming at her to take a chance, that this man would give her what she'd been searching for, what she had been missing from her life. His eyes were filled with hope and desire and pleaded with her to accept him. "Yes," she breathed and felt her heart flutter and pound against her ribs. "I want you, too."

          He crushed her to him, his hands delving into her long blonde tresses to hold her in place as his tongue ravaged her mouth. He swallowed her moan as his tongue slid along hers, drawing it into his own mouth to suck gently. His touch was gentle as his hands roamed over her back and her sides to settle on her hips and pull her tightly against his arousal, showing her just how much he wanted her.

          Paige's voice broke through the passion-induced haze surrounding them. "Papa, are you and Emma coming inside? Dinner is on the table. Do you want us to wait for you?" she called from the doorway leading into the kitchen.

          Jefferson continued to nibble softly at Emma's kiss-swollen lips as he called, "Be right there, love." Emma was smiling against his lips, a lovely pink blush on her cheeks. "Hungry, rabbit?"

          Emma sighed with contentment as she slipped her hand into his and let him lead her into the house. "Starving."

 

*.*.*

 

          "How can the two of you possibly be able to eat your way through an entire bowl of popcorn after putting away that much Chinese food?" Jefferson asked with a grimace, his own belly still stuffed from the array of dishes he'd consumed. He sat on the sofa, Emma's stockinged feet in his lap. The same feet he was casually rubbing in his warm hands.

          She was reclined on the sofa thumbing through Henry's book of fairy tales, the frown on her brow continuing to worsen. Paige and Henry were laying in the center of a pillow fort they'd constructed, watching  _Alice in Wonderland_  on the big screen TV. This was one of Paige's favorite movies, even though Depp's portrayal of the Mad Hatter gave Jefferson the creeps. The kids ignored his question, thoroughly engrossed in the movie.

          He smiled slyly and let his fingers wander along Emma's ankle and calf to settle on her knee. She lowered the book resting on her stomach to grin at him. "What are you reading about, rabbit?" he asked, quirking a seductive brow in her direction.

          She sat up, ready to show him what she was perusing in the book when the sound of a car coming up the drive drew their attention. Jefferson lowered her feet to the floor and went to the window to see who their visitor was and frowned. "Henry, it's your mother," he said, disdain dripping from his tongue. "Emma, you might want to step into the other room for a moment."

          "Why?" Emma asked, closing the book and rising to her feet to help Henry gather his things. "What's she doing here? I thought Henry was staying here tonight."

          "No. Regina refused and said he could only stay for dinner. She'd have a hissy fit if she knew you were here."

          Henry slung his backpack over his shoulder as the doorbell rang. He threw his arms around Emma and hugged her tightly as Jefferson went to answer the door. "See you tomorrow, Emma," he called happily as he joined Jefferson and Paige in the foyer and left Emma to retreat to the kitchen.

          Regina glowered at Jefferson as she stepped through the door. "Good evening, Jefferson. I trust Henry was no trouble," she said in her usual imperious tone. She wasn't looking for him to answer.

          "Of course, not. Henry is always the perfect gentleman when he visits with Paige," Jefferson beamed, smiling fondly at the boy.

          Regina smirked and ushered Henry closer, so she could run her fingers through his silky locks. "Henry, why don't you wait for me in the car? I'll just be a moment."

          Henry gave Paige a one-armed hug and promised to see her tomorrow evening for their sleepover, running out to the car, climbing in and shutting the door. Paige said goodnight to her father, nodded politely at Regina and skipped down the hall to her bedroom, closing the door behind her.

          "Something on your mind, your majesty?" Jefferson asked, shoving his hands in his pockets and lounging against the wall as though he were already bored with the conversation.

          "Yes, Jefferson. I'm just wondering if perhaps Henry is spending just a bit too much time with your daughter," she said, a malicious smile pulling at her painted lips. "Considering how much time you spend with Gold; I'm wondering if maybe I should help him find someone else to be his friend."

          Jefferson's eyes darkened to icy flints. "You would really make your own child suffer, wouldn't you, Regina? Doesn't his happiness count for anything with you?"

          "Of course, I want to see Henry happy. But I also don't want him around that imp and his precious wife," she bit out through gritted teeth. "And now that it seems you're spending more and more time with Emma Swan, that just doesn't sit well with me either."

          Jefferson huffed out a large breath in frustration. "Regina, the boy already thinks of you as the Evil Queen." He held up a hand to stop her protests and continued. "Everyone knows this because he hasn't kept his fantasy, that we're all fairy tale characters, a secret. He's unhappy and depressed. If you don't want to lose what little love he has for you, I suggest you not take away anything else that makes him happy. Show him you love him and let him keep his best friend."

          Regina's lip curled up into a sneer and she drew herself up to her full height as her eyes narrowed dangerously on him. "I don't need advice from you, Jefferson."

          "Take it, leave it, your majesty. Henry's the one who will end up suffering."

          He waited until Regina marched down the steps and got into the car before pounding his head against the door.  _Stupid stubborn witch_ _!_ he lamented silently. He was surprised when Emma's arms slipped around his waist and she laid her face against his back between his shoulder blades.

          "You alright, Jeff?" she asked as he turned in her embrace and pulled her tightly against his chest.

          "Nothing to worry about." He tucked her under his arm and led her back into the den to resume their spot on the sofa. "Now, I believe you were going to show me what you were reading about," he said, settling the book on his lap and urging her to find her place once more.

          She turned the pages until she came to his story, his separation from his daughter, and his time in Wonderland. Her eyes were murky twin emeralds filled with compassion and sadness. "I was reading about you. Henry had shown me the story before, when I didn't believe. I wanted to read it again now that I know it's real."

          He set the book on the low coffee table and raked a hand through his hair before turning to look at her. "You could've picked anything at all to read in this book and you chose my story," he breathed, his tone one of surprise. "Why?"

          Emma only hesitated for a moment before she answered. "Because I want to know you," she admitted with all honesty. Her fingers skillfully unknotted the cravat around his throat and his hands raised quickly to cover hers, stopping her from pulling it from about his neck. She knew how sensitive he was about his scar.

          "What are you doing?"

          "Getting to know you," she replied gently, shaking off his hands and removing the silk cravat. He watched her intently as she pressed her lips to his scar and he couldn't bite back the moan of pleasure rising deep in his throat. His eyes darkened with passion as she kissed the dark pink line across his neck, not a hint of pity or revulsion in her emerald gaze which remained locked with his.

          "It doesn't bother you?" he asked, completely in awe of her. He was further astonished as she moved onto his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck laying her head against his shoulder.

          "No, Jeff. It gives you character." Her eyes were teasing as they met his. "Who wants some pretty boy who's all full of himself? I'd much rather have someone with a few defects who really cares about me."

          He trailed his fingers along her leg from knee to hip and back again as he held her to him, a devilish smile upon his lips as they brushed gently against hers. "Does this mean you'll go out with me again if I ask?"

          "Why don't you ask me, and we'll find out?" she asked, nipping teasingly at his bottom lip.

          He cupped her face in his warm palm and ran the pad of his thumb along her bottom lip, opening her for his questing tongue, drinking in the nectar of her sweet mouth. "Later."

 

*.*.*

 

          Mary Margaret turned away from the TV screen when the door opened, and Emma entered their shared apartment. She leaned back heavily on the door, a silly grin on her swollen lips. Mary Margaret couldn't remember ever seeing her roommate with such an expression on her face and couldn't fight back her own grin as she took her in. "I take it everything went well on your date?" she asked, rising from the sofa and wrapping the throw blanket more securely around herself as she moved into the kitchen to discard the empty ice cream carton.

          Emma cleared her throat, ducking her head sheepishly in embarrassment for being caught in a weak moment. "Um … yeah, I …"

          "I'll take all that stammering for a yes," Mary Margaret giggled knowingly. "Come on, Emma, spill." She gave her a searching look and gasped as a blush spread over Emma's face. "You really like him, don't you?"

          Emma kicked off her black heels and padded over to the refrigerator to dig in the freezer for her own carton of ice cream. She grabbed a spoon and sat down at the kitchen counter on one of the mismatched bar stools before raising her gaze to Mary Margaret's. "Yeah. I really,  _really_  like Jefferson. He's just so different from anyone I've dated in the past. Not that I ever had time for dating."

          Mary Margaret grabbed a spoon and sat down next to Emma. "How so?"

          "Well, he's not just in it for sex." She wanted to laugh now that it was Mary Margaret's turn to blush. "For another … he said he wants my heart … and my love. He wants to spend time with me just talking. He says he spends most of the day thinking of when he can see me or talk to me again."

          Mary Margaret looked like she was about to swoon from the romance of it all. She had that same look when she was reading one of her historical romance novels. "That is just so incredibly sweet. What else?"

          Emma grinned as she thought of the way he'd kissed her goodnight when he'd walked up three flights of stairs to make sure she made it safely to her door. "I love the way he touches me, Mary Margaret. He treats me like I'm some priceless fragile piece of glass or something. It's as though he's scared if he moves too fast or if he's not the perfect gentleman, he'll scare me off." She slid her spoon into the cookie dough ice cream and savored the cold treat on her tongue as she thought of his kisses. "And the man should win an award for the way he kisses."

          Mary Margaret nearly lost her balance and fell off her stool. "I hope you're not going to let him get away. He sounds like a keeper." She repositioned herself on her seat and smiled. "Is he worth risking your heart?"

          Emma took another bite of ice cream and considered the possibility of having Jefferson Madden in her life for an extended period of time, having someone who put her first and showered her with love and affection. "Yeah, I think he's well worth the risk."

 

*.*.*

 

          Nicholas Gold scowled down at the phone in his hand and refrained from smashing it with his cane. Why did Mary Margaret Blanchard's welcome home party have to be held in his home? Because his Belle wanted it. "Since when did my life become dependent upon my wife's whims?"

          Jefferson stuck his head through the curtain leading into the back room of the pawnshop and grinned. "I think some time ago when you made a deal for a certain princess who stole your heart and turned your life upside down," he retorted, his smile reminiscent of a Cheshire cat.

          Gold slipped the phone into his pocket and turned his hand on the handle of his cane to begin closing up the shop for the evening. "For once, I'm happy to see you, hatter."

          "Oh?" Jefferson asked in genuine surprise. More so for the fact that Gold had admitted it than that he actually was happy to see him. "Why's that?"

          "The  _Formidable_   _Foursome_ are at my house, as we speak, setting up for a party I have no wish to attend, much less host. They have requested I stop by the liquor store on the way home and pick up suitable libations for the evening," he groused as he turned the placard sign from open to closed and ushered Jefferson out onto the sidewalk so he could lock up.

          "I'm sorry," Jefferson said with a comical grin. "The  _Formidable Foursome?"_

          Gold scowled. "Belle, the wolf girl, Emma and Miss Blanchard."

          Jefferson burst out laughing, drawing stares from a few passersby. "Why in the world do you call them that?"

          Gold led Jefferson around the building to the parking lot and leaned wearily against his car. "Can you think of four ladies more formidable than them? My wife, a princess in her own right with a rapier wit, a nasty talent with a dagger and dark magic lying dormant in her veins. Then there's the little wolf girl whose senses are awakening as the curse weakens. She is fiercely loyal and protective of her three friends and will happily come to their defense as needed. There's also the lovely Miss Swan." He swatted Jefferson with his cane. "Wipe that silly grin off your face, hatter. You are completely besotted."

          "Hello, pot … meet kettle," Jefferson mumbled under his breath.

          "As I was saying … Miss Swan, another princess, but also our savior, is tough as nails because of her upbringing in the system. Not to mention deadly with her sidearm. And once Miss Blanchard comes to her senses and regains her memories, she'll remember just how deadly she is with a bow and a sword. Can you really think of a more apt name for their little clique?"

 

**Forty-five minutes later …**

 

          Mary Margaret's party was scheduled for eight o'clock, so the four women had plenty of time to tidy up the house and put the finishing touches on the platters of food and desserts they'd prepared for their guests to enjoy. Belle had just taken out the last baking sheet of peach tarts from the oven when the front door opened, and she could hear Gold and Jefferson in the foyer. "Just put the liquor on the bar, darling," she called to her husband.

          Gold stopped dead in the hallway, not even noticing when Jefferson plowed into his back at the sudden stop. "Nick, what the hell, man?" he grumbled, walking into the parlor and depositing the cardboard box on the bar. Gold lifted his head and sniffed the air, his pupils dilating as the smell of peach tarts assailed his nose.

          He felt as though he'd been instantly transported back to the Dark Castle and his Belle was in their kitchen baking tarts for him and him alone once again. Memories of being in that kitchen with her, slathering peach filling all over her delectable body as she writhed seductively in his arms filled his head and he growled low in his throat. He set the box he was carrying on the floor at his feet for Jefferson to retrieve and set off down the hallway, following his nose to the kitchen where he knew his Belle would be.

          It didn't matter that the kitchen was filled with her cohorts, lounging around the table enjoying a drink together. His Belle, his wife, his enchantress, was standing at the center island arranging the tarts on a serving tray, a warm smile of greeting on her face as he entered the kitchen. Only one thought dominated his mind. He was consumed with need and he had to have her, touch her … make her scream his name.

          Gold made his way to her, his hands grasping her hips as he turned her towards him and buried his nose in the curve of her neck, breathing her in. He paid no mind to her startled squeak or the fact that the other occupants of the room went silent in an instant, shocked he would behave in such a way.

          "Oh, God's toenails!" Belle mumbled, realizing quickly she'd made a mistake by fixing his favorite dessert. He never had been able to resist the way she smelled after baking the tarts, how aroused he got merely from the smell of the fruit and how it permeated her skin and hair. "Nicholas," she breathed, feeling heat begin to pool in her belly as his lips moved along her skin.

          "You made tarts, dearest," he murmured against her neck, his teeth nipping gently at her flesh.

          "Nicholas, we have guests," she protested weakly, tugging at his hair to try to get him to look at her. He raised his head and she could see his eyes were nearly black with hunger and unrequited lust.

          Gold still didn't heed her quiet warning, simply grabbing her hand and pulling her along behind him, searching for a spot where they could have a private moment and settling on the pantry just a few yards behind her. He opened the door and pushed her inside, following her in and shutting it behind him.

          Jefferson entered the kitchen and grabbed a tart from the tray before pulling a chair next to Emma's and sitting beside her. He draped his arm across the back of her chair and kissed her cheek, causing her to blush and take a sip of her wine. He took in the flushed faces of the three ladies sitting around the table and then noticed the absence of the Golds. "Alright, what did I miss?"

          Before any of them could answer, an audible, "Oh, Rumpel," was heard from the direction of the pantry.

          Jefferson's eyes widened, his brows shooting up into his hairline. Mary Margaret mirrored his reaction and asked, "Did she just call him … Rumpel?"

          "Nickname," Emma coughed, squirming in her chair uncomfortably.

          In the pantry, Belle was having a difficult time trying to diffuse her husband's ardor. "We can't do this here," she hissed, turning her head away from his questing lips as he tried to kiss her. He settled for the sensitive pulse point just under her jaw, satisfied when she moaned loudly and pulled at his hair.

          "Sure, we can," he said, pressing her back into the shelf at her back and lifting her leg up to wrap around his hip. "I want you so much, my Belle," he breathed against her neck, sucking gently against her flesh which had become riddled with goosebumps as she trembled in his arms from the increase in her own desire.

          "I am  _not_  having sex with you in the pantry while my friends are out there listening," she squeaked, still trying to break free of his embrace although her heart was no longer into denying him. She whimpered weakly as he ground his hips against hers and she could feel his arousal press against her core. "Please, Rumpel."

          "Please what, dear one?" he whispered, leaving a wet trail of open-mouthed kisses down to her collarbone as his hand slid up her ribcage to her breast. "Tell me what you want, and I'll give it to you. Whatever you want, my love."

          Belle was losing herself to the fire coursing through her veins, pumped by her erratic heartbeat and the passion she felt for the one man who could turn off her brain and make her get lost in a sea of ecstasy with one touch. She knew she couldn't do this, not with guests just yards away from their semi-private spot in the pantry. His fingers tweaked her nipple and a loud moan escaped her throat. Her hand brushed the shelf behind her and a jar of pickles crashed to the floor, shattering. "Now look what you made me do," she huffed, fighting to catch her breath. “You are sooo cleaning that up … yes, right there!”

          "Shh, love. Just let me touch you," he ground out through clenched teeth as he worked his hand beneath the hem of her skirt.

          In a last-ditch effort to make him see reason, she reached up and grabbed both of his ears, forcing his head back with a yowl. "Come upstairs with me. Not here," she hissed, promising him paradise with her eyes if he would just give up this insane notion he had of ravishing her in their food pantry. This was absolutely the last time she prepared peaches of any kind when they were expecting company, she swore to herself.

          "Everything all right in there?" Jefferson asked, his voice carrying to them through the door and making Belle's face flame a deep red.

          Gold glowered at the door as he stepped back, releasing Belle and letting her leg slide away from his hip to return to the floor. "Snails, hatter," he retorted. He cupped her face in his hands and took her lips in a bruising kiss before grabbing her hand and opening the door. He didn't even glance at their friends snickering behind them as he led Belle out of the kitchen and up the stairs. She mumbled an apology as they passed and an excuse that they were going to go get dressed for the party as they passed.

          Mary Margaret looked as though she were going to hyperventilate at any moment. Ruby was fanning herself with a cocktail napkin, and Emma was guzzling the contents of her wine glass. Jefferson burst out laughing as the door to Gold's bedroom slammed shut, followed by a giggle from Belle.

          "She really shouldn't have baked peach tarts," he said offhandedly, pouring more wine into Emma's glass and taking a sip.

          "Who knew Gold was such an animal?" Ruby asked, sipping at her own wine, a wolfish grin on her ruby lips.

          "That was just disturbing. I had read where men get turned on by certain smells, but I never thought it was really true," Mary Margaret added, fidgeting with the collar of her cardigan.

          Jefferson leaned close to Emma's ear so only she could hear his softly uttered words. "I happen to be a sucker for cinnamon."

          "Why?" she asked curiously.

          "Because that's what you smell like, rabbit," he said, dropping a kiss to the area just below her ear. She shivered. "As much as I hate to miss the rest of the show, I'm going to Regina's to pick up the kids."

          Emma watched him go, her eyes straying to his rear as he left the room. She turned back to Ruby and Mary Margaret and caught their wide-eyed and knowing gazes, causing her to blush. Ruby drained her glass and reached for the bottle. "What is it with the men in this town and where can I find one?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Ok, so I got a little nuts. The thing about the smells is true, look it up if you don't believe me. Pumpkin drives my hubby wild. And once my muse got it in her head to throw in the scene with the pantry, I just couldn't stop her. Sorry if no one likes it. Leave me a review and let me know what you think. Next chapter is the party and the sleepover and some bonding between Jefferson, Rumpel and … well, I'll just let you see for yourself. Love you guys.


	50. Chapter 50

          Belle slipped her arms around Gold's waist from behind and rested her face against his back, a happy smile curving her lips. He raised her hand and brushed his lips against her fingertips. He pulled her around to stand next to him and draped his arm around her shoulders, relishing the feel of her pressed against his side. "Are you enjoying yourself, my darling Belle?"

          She looked up at him, a rosy flush of embarrassment upon her cheeks. "Certainly, love. I just can't seem to look at any of my friends without blushing scarlet, knowing they know what we were doing in the food pantry," she chuckled, peeking at him from beneath her lashes.

          He kissed the tip of her nose and smiled lovingly at her. "Darling, we are married with a baby on the way. Do you really think your friends don't know what's going on between us?"

          Her sharp little fingernail jabbed into his ribs, earning a hiss of discomfort from his lips. "That is beside the point, Rum," she whispered. "It's fine for them to speculate. It's entirely different for them to witness it firsthand."

          "Who cares if they're scarred for life?" he asked, tightening his arm around her waist and hugging her close. He wasn't going to be sorry for spending a good forty-five minutes in the shower with his lovely wife. He wasn't going to be sorry for the pleasure they'd shared in each other's arms. Her friends should be thankful he'd opened their home to them for this little soiree and not have anything to say about what he and Belle did behind closed doors … even if it was  _only_  the pantry door. His grin was wicked as he strode to the door to answer it, pulling her along with him.

          The smile faded from his face to be replaced by a mask of calm which didn't reach the blazing fury in his dark brown eyes. To make matters worse, he felt Belle stiffen at his side and inch closer to him as though protecting herself from the newcomer. "What do you want?" he snapped, his voice a deadly hiss.

          Mother Superior drew herself up, affronted by his tone and menacing stature. "I was invited, Mr. Gold."

          Gold glanced down at Belle, who was trying to suppress a shudder of revulsion. "I thought you approved of Mary Margaret's guest list, Belle."

          Belle glared at the fairy over her husband's shoulder and began to back away towards the parlor. "I'll just tell Mary Margaret _she_ is here to see her." She turned on her heel but glanced back at him in warning. "Behave while I'm gone, Nicholas."

          "Humph," he snorted, allowing the woman to pass and shutting the door behind her. He watched her hug Mary Margaret and speak in low tones to her as Belle returned to his side. He pulled her back against his chest and placed his hands protectively over her swollen belly, his chin coming to rest on her shoulder. "There are fairies in my house, Belle."

          "I know, love, but …"

          "There are  _fucking fairies_  in my bloody house, Belle," he growled sharply.

          She pushed out of his arms and grabbed his hand, knowing she needed to do something to diffuse the situation and his anger before it broke free and he ended up smashing something with his cane. She knew he was counting down the days until he could personally deal with the being who had kept her from him for nearly a year because of her misguided notion to save Belle from the beast. Did he really think it was easy to put on a brave face and not let her own anger overtake her? That she wasn't fighting the urge to wrap her hands around the woman's throat and pour out the long months of anguish she'd suffered by choking the life from her body? But she couldn't show him her fear, her loathing, her rage, because he wouldn't then be able to control the beast which lay just below the surface of his calm.

          She didn't let go of his hand even when they reached the kitchen and she began filling a plate full of finger sandwiches, bacon wrapped jumbo shrimp, sweet and spicy meatballs and an array of other party foods. She made certain it was all topped off with a peach tart and led him outside onto the patio.

          She took his cane from him and laid it to the side of a chaise lounge before urging him to sit and then settling herself on his lap. "Now, isn't this better?" she purred, offering him a bite of the tart. His eyes closed, reveling in the taste of the spiced peaches bursting against his palate. He offered her a moan of pleasure as he chewed.

          "I still say it tastes better when I'm licking it off of you, sweetheart," he sighed, swallowing and letting her feed him a bit more.

          They finished off the entire plate before she answered. "I agree. Perhaps if there are any leftovers, we could take them upstairs with us," she said as her lips met his. She didn't like it that the blue fairy was in their home any more than he did, but with the precarious place they were in with the curse, there was nothing they could do about it without showing everyone just how much of a monster he could be. She wouldn't let his reputation be damaged any more than it already had been. She'd been working so hard to build a circle of friends who would see him for who he really was instead of how he'd been in her absence.

          Belle rested her head against his shoulder, her face nuzzling his neck and let the muted sounds of the party and the natural hum of the night soothe her. Here, wrapped in her husband's arms, she was content. She felt him stiffen beneath her, his head turning slightly as he listened carefully, his fingertips coming to settle over her lips to keep her silent. And then she heard it, a soft chuckle coming from their left in the shadows. Another chuckle, a soft sigh and a moan. Belle laughed softly against Gold's neck and smiled.

          "It seems we weren't the only ones seeking a little solitude in the garden," he murmured against her hair as he kissed her temple. A moment later, Jefferson emerged from the shadows, Emma tucked to his side, her lips swollen from his kisses and a rosy blush staining the apples of her cheeks.

          Jefferson dropped into the patio chair next to Belle and Gold, and drew Emma onto his lap. "Isn't it a bit chilly for the two of you to be out here spying on us," he drawled lazily as though it were of no consequence to have his friends spy on him.

          "I have my Belle to keep me warm. And now it looks as though you have Miss Swan to keep  _you_  warm," he snorted, raising a challenging brow at Jefferson.

          Belle twined her fingers with his and beamed at her dearest friend, ecstatic he was finally finding his happy ending. "I think it's lovely you two have found each other."

          Jefferson's grin was pure evil genius as he snickered. "And you didn't find  _us_  in the pantry."

          Belle narrowed her eyes on him and rose from her husband's lap, holding out her hand to Emma. "And with that, we'll take our leave, gentlemen," she sniffed haughtily, leading the way back into the house.

          The doorbell rang just as Belle began tidying up the kitchen of empty cups and discarded plates and stacking them in the dishwasher. Emma held up a hand in a silent gesture that she would see who the newcomer was. She had a smile on her face, the result of her moment in the garden with Jefferson, which quickly faded as she opened the door to find August on the other side. Her look told him he could go straight to hell as she slammed the door in his face.

          "Emma! Emma, please talk to me," he pleaded, his voice carrying to her through the door.

          She rolled her eyes and opened the door again, but her body language made it clear to him he wasn't coming inside. "I have nothing to say to you. No, I _do_ have something to say. You came to town under false pretenses and tried to be my friend. And fool that I am, I disregarded the warning signs and let you in. You hurt my friends and you lied to me and I am  _not_  in a forgiving mood. Goodnight!" Once again, she slammed the door, ignoring his pleas and marching back into the kitchen to help Belle.

          The rest of the evening went rather smoothly. Mary Margaret was wished well by everyone who came through the door, listening to apologies for not supporting her and pleas for forgiveness. She was gracious and kind as always and muddled through as best she could with the support of Emma, Belle and Ruby. She was relieved when the last of the guests were gone and Belle pulled them all into the library for their sleepover.

          Gold and Jefferson had shoved the furniture against the walls and brought out four large air beds, enough room for eight if they so desired, to sleep comfortably in Belle's sanctuary. They'd set them up and left the low coffee table in the center of the square piled high with chilled wine, glasses and a myriad of party games. Considering the two had no idea what the girls wanted to do at their sleepover, their efforts were well received. They'd even left a roaring blaze in the hearth to keep them warm.

          Mary Margaret and Emma gaped as Belle pushed open the double doors and welcomed them into her favorite room of the house. "Wow, Belle. How long did it take you to fill this room? I don't think the town library has this many books," Mary Margaret gaped, craning her neck to see the shadowed upper floor.

          Belle flopped down on the airbed she'd chosen closest to the hearth and grinned sheepishly. "This room was a gift to me from Nicholas. He caters to my hobby."

          Ruby came in, clad in warm fuzzy red pajama bottoms and a black tank top and flopped down opposite Belle, grabbing the wine and pouring out three glasses. "You're spoiled, and you know it, Belles," she winked. Emma and Mary Margaret grabbed their own pajamas from their overnight bags and left Belle and Ruby alone to go change.

          Belle's eyes softened as she met Ruby's gaze. "He always has spoiled me terribly."

          "Girl, you got it so bad. And for your own husband, too."

          "Seems I'm not the only one," Belle sing-songed. "I saw you flirting with Archie at the party."

          "Was not," Ruby said, hiding a small smile behind the rim of her wine glass. "We're just friends."

          "Nicholas and I were just friends before we fell in love."  _Oh, if you only knew._

          "Talking about me already, dearest? Not spilling  _all_ of our secrets, I hope," Gold said as he carried a small tea service into the room to set next to his wife. He'd removed his tie, waistcoat and jacket and the top two buttons had been undone on his dress shirt. Ruby stared at him in surprise.

          Belle leaned over and kissed him lightly, accepting the teacup from him and taking a hesitant sip so as not to burn her lip. "Only good things, love."

          "Is there a problem, Miss Lucas?" he asked, preparing his own cup and reclining next to Belle.

          "No, of course not. It's just … I don't think I've ever seen you without a tie, Mr. Gold."

          Emma and Mary Margaret seemed to share the sentiment as they returned to the room and settled in. For once, he'd shed his image of the town monster and taken on the persona of a husband at home with his wife and her friends, sharing a drink and relaxing. They'd never thought they'd see the day and they realized it was all because of Belle. He was no longer the unbending businessman who took pleasure in terrorizing the citizens of Storybrooke, but rather a man so in love with his wife, he wasn't afraid to show it to everyone.

          Belle leaned against his shoulder as he wrapped his arm about her waist, his hand slayed gently across her belly. "Oh, what was that?" Belle asked, dumbfounded as her hand moved to her stomach.

          "What was what?" he answered, his brow creasing with a concerned frown. "Something wrong?"

          Belle's face lit with wonder as she felt it again, her baby's first kick under the palm of her hand. It wasn’t the first time she’d felt him move, but never so his kicks could be felt on the surface of her belly. She took his hand in hers and moved it to another spot where she'd felt it, hoping to share the experience with him. "There," she breathed, her tone one of excitement. "Did you feel it?" But she knew he had because of the astonishment written all over his face and the huge smile curving his mouth.

          She brushed her fingertips to the corner of his eye and they came away wet with his tears. "I … um … I never got to feel this with Milah when she was pregnant with Bae," he explained, his voice low so only she could hear, and her heart clenched with sadness for him.

          "It's alright, love. You won't have to miss a single moment with this child." She had to swipe at tears of her own and she pressed her lips gently to his to seal her promise to him. "I love you, Rum. And the baby loves you, too," she said, her voice a soft caress.

          He pressed his brow to hers, his heart overflowing with love for the beauty in his arms. The room had grown silent and he looked over at the three ladies spread about the fort of airbeds, all in various states of 'awww'. "Well, come on, you lot. I know you're dying to take my place over here and fawn over my wife," he snarked, an amused smile toying with his lips. As soon as he rose to his feet, they converged on Belle, each putting a hand to her belly in hopes theirs would be the hand the baby chose to kick.

          Jefferson paused in the doorway, a puzzled brow raised in question as Gold joined him. "What's going on?" he asked, shoving his hands deep into his pockets and rocking back on his heels.

          "The baby kicked for the first time and …" His words trailed off as Jefferson lightly vaulted over the nearest airbed and dropped to his knees by Belle, he too finding a spot on her belly to press his hand.

          Ruby shoved him gently with her shoulder, not wanting to give up her spot. "Jefferson, this is supposed to be a girl's sleepover," she teased as he shoved her back.

          "I've got dibs after the parents since I'm going to be the godfather," he said, slipping his hand beneath Emma's.

          "Hey!" Emma protested, wrangling for position.

          Poor Belle was getting seasick from the motion of so many hands upon her person and stretched out on her back to give them more room. She was happy she could share the experience with her friends and sighed deeply. Mary Margaret startled as Belle's belly jumped slightly beneath her hand and she pulled away, a brilliant smile on her face. Belle looked at Gold where he stood watching her, sending a plea for help with her eyes.

          "Alright, Miss Blanchard won. Now cease pawing my wife," he growled gruffly, his tone belied by the amusement dancing in his deep brown eyes. The doorbell rang, distracting him. "Who could that be? Belle, did you invite anyone else for your little sleepover?"

          She shook her head in confusion. "No, Nicholas. It was just supposed to be us girls, you and Jefferson, and the kids."

          Gold assured her he would take care of it and closed the double doors behind him as he left the library. He knew exactly who it was. Someone who couldn't follow directions worth a damn, he thought irritably. He was expecting Leroy, but not who the man had brought along with him. "You were supposed to come to the kitchen door, not ring the bell," he hissed, ushering Leroy into the house. "And what are you doing here, Mr. Nolan?"

          "That's what I'd like to know, Nicholas," Belle interrupted, causing him to grimace. Her bare feet had made no noise against the hardwood floor, allowing her to sneak up on him. Her eyes were shooting daggers at the man who had broken Mary Margaret's heart. He had already made her short list of people she disliked because of the part he'd played with Ella to imprison her husband before the curse had been enacted. She wasn't pleased to find him in her home.

          "I have a business matter to discuss with Leroy, my Belle," he told her, slipping his arm about her waist and tucking her into his side.

          Belle's eyes narrowed on Gold. "Very well, love. Go and discuss your business and I'll just have a chat with Mr. Nolan, hmm?"

          "Um …" He was at a loss. An internal debate began to wage war within him and it twisted his stomach in knots. He knew that look all too well. It was the same expression she wore the night she'd skewered Booth to a chair with his dagger. There was no telling what she'd do to the hapless princeling.

          She smiled lovingly up into his worried visage and patted him on the cheek. "I promise I'll be along shortly, darling." He glanced back on her with concern more than once as he led Leroy up the stairs to the nursery. She was sure he had something up his sleeves and she was determined to find out just what it was, but it would have to wait. She ushered David Nolan into the parlor, taking in the way he fidgeted nervously.

          "I'm sorry if I'm interrupting you, Mrs. Gold, but I wanted to speak with you about Mary Margaret," he began. "You are her closest friend and I was hoping …"

          "… that I would what? Put in a good word for you? Perhaps talk her into speaking to you again? My husband was right about you. You really are thick!" she railed at him. She supported her husband one hundred percent in his endeavors to find Baelfire, but she was desperately missing the peace and quiet she had enjoyed in their realm. She missed her home and she missed having Rumpelstiltskin all to herself. There was entirely too much drama in this land.

          "Belle …"

          "No one is going to be able to fix this but you," she retorted, rubbing her fingertips into her temples, fighting off a monstrous headache forming behind her eyes. She was supposed to be having fun with her friends, not babysitting the distraught prince. Regina certainly did a number on him in this land. No longer was he Snow's take charge prince. Here he didn't know which end was up and was expected to simply muddle through. "Come with me," she ordered in a no-nonsense tone, turning on her heel to return to the library. When he simply looked at her with a dumbfounded expression on his face, she grabbed him by the collar and dragged him along behind her.

          His presence back in her sanctuary was met with varying looks of disdain and anger from Mary Margaret, but Belle could see the hurt lingering behind her green eyes. "Emma, could you and Jefferson possibly go check on the children? Get them tucked in for the evening? And please ask Henry if you can borrow his book. Ruby, please, if you would, join me in the kitchen." She waited until the room emptied save for Mary Margaret before dragging David to sit next to her and shoving him down onto the airbed where she was perched stiffly.

          "Belle, what is he doing here?" Mary Margaret asked, refusing to look at her former paramour. She was having trouble believing her best friend would put her in this situation.

          "You two are going to stay in here until these issues are resolved," Belle said firmly, daring either one of them to disagree with her. She pinned David with a malevolent stare, her eyes telling him he'd be more than sorry if he didn't fix this with Mary Margaret. "You are going to grovel, beg and plead and then you are going to pray she can find it in her heart to forgive you for being a complete lying ass! You are going to be remorseful when you beg her forgiveness for having no faith in her, but you  _are_  going to repair the damage you've done!" She then turned her wrath on her dear friend. "And you, Mary Margaret, are going to listen with an open heart and find some way to grant that forgiveness. You love each other, you belong to one another and you will  _not_  let Regina win by letting her tear you apart."

          Mary Margaret's eyes were as wide as dinner plates as she watched Belle come unglued in her anger. David was staring down at his feet, his jaw clenched to keep him from saying something he'd later regret as Belle swept out of the library and slammed the doors behind her, leaving them alone to work through their problems.

          The silence was unbearable, each waiting for the other to break it. David felt as though he were standing before a firing squad as he glanced hesitantly at Mary Margaret from the corner of his eye. "Belle … she's a bit scary sometimes," he began, saying the first thing which popped into his mind.

          Mary Margaret laughed nervously, fiddling with the button at the collar of her pajama top. "Belle is just very protective of her friends. And lord forbid if someone threatens her husband. She's like a mama lion protecting her cubs. But I couldn't have asked for a more supportive friend during …" She let her words trail off, realizing she was rambling. She had told herself she wasn't going to talk to him at all, no matter what Belle wanted and found herself opening up to him anyway.

          David took that as a good sign, more's the pity. "I  _am_  sorry, Mary Margaret. I never really thought you killed Kathryn, and I didn't want you to believe I'd lost faith in you." He raked a hand through his cropped hair and turned to face her. "I can't seem to explain why every time I open my mouth, I say the wrong thing. I didn’t want you to be hurt by it. I didn’t want _anyone_ to be hurt.”

          Mary Margaret's head whipped around, and she stared at him in amazement. "But see, David, you  _did_  hurt me. And you hurt Kathryn. If you had just been honest with her about us, we could have recovered from the scandal and moved on together. But you  _lied_  and ended up hurting Kathryn _and_ me. Not to mention making it out where I looked like a homewrecker," she snapped angrily, hating herself for letting the hurt she felt show on her face as hot tears trailed down her cheeks. She slapped at his hands as they reached for her, refusing to let him comfort her. "You broke my heart, David."

          His voice was low and filled with emotion, his visage twisted with the pain he felt. The heartbreak wasn't one-sided. He was suffering as well, and it was his fault. "Then let me mend it. Mary Margaret, I love you. I know I'm the world's biggest idiot for what I've put us through and I want a chance to fix this."

          She swiped at her tears and raised her eyes to meet his, her resolve weakening just a fraction as she met his gaze. Sincerity blazed from his blue eyes and she wanted nothing more than to run. "I can't, David … I can't trust you anymore. How do I know you won't hurt me again?" she asked, standing her ground as he took a step closer. She crossed her arms over her chest in a gesture to protect herself as he raised his hand and cupped her cheek. It took every ounce of willpower she possessed not to lean into his palm, to take the comfort that he offered.

          "Please, Mary Margaret, don't give up on us. All I'm asking is for one more chance," he begged, his eyes just as desperately pleading as his lips. He remembered Belle's words she'd literally screamed at him and he dropped down to his knees before the woman he loved. "Please, sweetheart."

          David ran his hands up her legs to her hips and pulled her forward, so he could wrap his arms around her waist, encouraged when she didn't pull away. He pressed his cheek against her stomach and felt her arms fall to her sides. He didn't look up at her again, submitting to her will and giving her complete control over his destiny. She was all he wanted, all he needed, and this was the only way he knew how to show her. He felt her hand rise to touch him, and his stomach fell somewhere around his feet when she hesitated.

          They were both startled as a voice came from the shadows above them on the gallery. "Make a deal with him, dearie."

          David tightened his arms around her waist, astonished to find Gold helping him, but thankful nonetheless. Mary Margaret met Gold's gaze as he stepped to the banister and quirked a brow at her. "Mr. Gold, I … um …"

          "You have no idea what I've done in my life, Miss Blanchard. I'm not proud of any of them. Yet, my Belle has forgiven me for every one of them. She showed me I could be a better man and I thank the Gods for her love every day. Look at him, dearie," he said gently, gesturing to David on his knees before her. "It takes a great act of love for a man to supplicate himself before the woman he loves and abandon his pride. Do you really want to let this chance pass you by? If Belle could look past the monster in me, couldn't you do the same for Mr. Nolan?"

          Belle appeared at his side above them and tugged on his sleeve. "There you are. Can't you let them work through their problems without interfering?" she scolded.

          "I was just trying to help, dearest. If I let them muddle through on their own, we'd be here all night," he grumbled, letting her pull him through the door and out into the hall.

          A hysterical giggle slipped past Mary Margaret's lips and she looked down at David to find him smiling, mesmerized by the smile on her face. "He's right, you know? Gold's a changed man because of Belle. I can change, too, Mary Margaret. Please, just give me a chance," he pleaded, his breath fanning against the thin tank top she wore with the plaid pajama bottoms.

          She smoothed her hands over his hair to come to rest on his nape, her thumbs brushing over the sensitive skin below his ears. It felt so good to be able to touch him again, and she took a deep breath to quell the raging emotions fighting for dominance in her heart. She was waging a battle between what her head was telling her and what her heart was feeling. Her heart won out. "I guess we could … maybe go … for coffee in the morning at Granny's," she ventured hesitantly, a rosy blush rising up her chest and neck to settle in the apples of her cheeks. "But only if you get up off the floor."

          David rose from his knees and hauled her against his chest. "You won't regret it, sweetheart."

          She placed both of her palms flat against his chest and glared up at him, pushing back to allow for some distance. "I'm not promising anything, David Nolan. We are going to go for coffee … perhaps breakfast … to talk. Nothing more. We'll see then if I can give you another chance," she stated firmly.

          He smiled down at her, all the love he felt for her shining in his eyes and vowing to himself he wouldn't screw things up this time. "Thank you," he breathed, letting her out of his embrace so he could run his hands up and down her arms. "What time would you like me to pick you up?"

          "Since tomorrow's Saturday, I think the girls and I will probably be sleeping in. Is nine o'clock all right with you?" she asked, eyeing him warily and stepping away from him.

          David lifted her hand to his lips and placed a lingering kiss to her knuckles. He was rewarded with another blush and small smile toying at the corner of her mouth. He would take what he could get at this point. She wasn't yelling and screaming at him or railing at him for his shortcomings. He was being granted a truce, a chance to share a meal with her and tell her how sorry he was, how much he had missed her and how much he loved her. He wouldn't push her into anything, but he wouldn't be giving up on her this time either.

          "As my lady wishes."

 

*.*.*

 

          Jefferson strolled into the nursery where Gold and Leroy were waiting for him, David in tow. Gold growled at Jefferson the moment he walked into the room. "Lock the door, hatter," he commanded, staring down the occupants of the room. "We do not need my wife coming up here and discovering her surprise before we have all of this put together," he explained, running his hand through his hair and sighing.

          Jefferson looked around, a grimace on his handsome face as he took in the boxes. "You couldn't have had them assembled before delivery?"

          "I was a bit distracted with Mary Margaret's fate when I ordered them," Gold grumbled, realizing yet not wanting to admit, for once, he'd forgotten to read the fine print. "Pick a box and let's get started."

          There was a crib, a changing table with drawers, a glider rocker and a toy chest. Gold's frown only deepened as the four men set to work. "This reads like bloody stereo instructions."

          "I was thinking more along the lines of astrophysics," Jefferson said, frowning down at the multitude of screws laid out before him.

          "Getting Mary Margaret to take me back is going to be child's play after this," David groaned, agreeing with Gold and Jefferson.

          Leroy looked at the other three and shook his head. "You would think you'd never assembled anything in your entire life. What kind of man doesn't know how to put together simple furniture?"

          Gold's head whipped around so he could glare at the dwarf formerly known as Grumpy. "Men who can pay someone else to do it for them," he growled, glowering at him.

          "Yeahhh," Leroy drawled, staring at the mess of unassembled furniture parts scattered about the room. "Why don't you guys head out and find something to do? I'm going to call Walter and see if he can't come and give me a hand. The two of us can get more accomplished than you lot."

          "You get it done in the next three hours and I'll forgive the both of you a month's rent. Deal?" Gold arched a challenging brow, leaning heavily on his cane as he pulled himself up off the floor.

          "You got a deal, Mr. Gold," Leroy said, a true smile forming on his weathered face. He pulled out his cell phone and called his friend, gaining his promise that he would be there soon to help out.

          Gold ushered Jefferson and David out of the room, only to stop short when he encountered Belle and Ruby coming down the hall towards the nursery. "Darling, what are you doing up here?" he asked, trying for a smile and ending up with a grimace on his guilty face.

          Belle leaned up to kiss her husband on his cheek and smiled. "I was just going to show Ruby the work we've done on the nursery," she told him, her hand resting gently on her stomach as she moved to go around him. He stepped into her path.

          "You can show her in the morning," he stumbled lamely, not quite meeting her gaze.

          "I want to show her now," she said, once more trying to move to the nursery door. And once again, he blocked her path. Jefferson and David were perusing the paintings lining the walls in the hall, also refusing to get in the middle of the intrigue.

          "But it will be so much better to show her in the morning, sweetheart. You know, the natural light coming through the windows will give it a much homier feel."

          Belle narrowed her eyes on him, her smile fading away to be replaced by a rueful smirk. "Alright, Nicholas, spill it. What are you hiding?" she asked, her mouth gaping as a crash sounded from within. "What was that?"

          He held up his cane to block her and she poked him with a sharp fingernail in the center of his chest. "Really, my Belle. It's nothing for you to be concerned about." She changed tactics and pressed herself against his chest, her fingers carding through his hair as she looked at him with a seductive smile.  _Oh, now she's just playing dirty._  "Can't a man just surprise his wife once in a while?"

          Belle's smile turned warm and loving. "You have a surprise for me?" she asked, a little breathless in her excitement, now sorry for trying to get past him into the room. He nodded a little sheepishly. She kissed him sweetly on the lips and drew him into a hug. "Then I won't spoil it, love."

          He breathed a sigh of relief as she grabbed a giggling Ruby by the hand and went back into the library to join her friends. David and Jefferson were snickering behind their hands and trying to be as nonchalant as possible in the face of Belle's cunning. Gold glowered at them both and headed towards the stairs. "Oh, shut it, you two," he grouched and then looked back to them when they made no move to follow. "Are you coming or not?"

 

*.*.*

 

          Belle sighed contentedly as she dug her spoon into her pint of Chocolate Seduction ice cream, ignoring Ruby's teasing as she braided Belle's long chestnut tresses. The night was going along splendidly in her opinion and it felt good to just sit back with her friends and enjoy a night of frivolity. Mary Margaret was painting her toenails with a lovely pale pink polish, a small smile toying at her lips. Ruby was playing hairdresser with Belle's hair while she regaled them all with comments about the good doctor Hopper, the mysterious air surrounding Booth and Whale’s oh-so-charming smile, and Emma was stretched out on her airbed, thumbing through Henry's storybook. The last she'd seen of her husband, he, Jefferson and David were sitting in the den watching a replay of the Manchester U game.

          The brunette grinned wolfishly. “See, there are some very interesting dating options if you take time to look.”

          "So why don't you ask one of them out, Rubes," Emma murmured distractedly, looking up from the book in time to see her friend blush prettily. "You could double with Mary Margaret and David." She glanced over, smirking at her roommate in time to have a pillow smack her in the face.

          "We're just going for coffee in the morning to talk. It's not a date," Mary Margaret insisted.

          "But at least you're willing to speak to him now," Belle mumbled around her spoon.

          "Aww," Emma cooed, biting back a laugh. "Henry will be so happy to see his grandparents speaking again," she teased her.

          Mary Margaret rolled her eyes. "You're not on about that again, are you, Emma?"

          Belle and Ruby watched them, their gazes swinging back and forth between the two women. Emma sat up and turned to the story of Snow and Charming, showing her a picture. "You have to admit,  _Mom_ … there's a remarkable resemblance between you?" She asked, keeping her tone neutral as she swung the book for Belle and Ruby to see.

          Ruby raised a brow, but Belle quickly agreed, realizing where Emma was going with this. "Oh, yes, remarkable."

          Mary Margaret blew gently on her wet nails and shook her head in disbelief. "Emma, you can't be buying into Henry's conspiracy theory."

          "Just say it could be possible," Emma argued, turning to a page which bore Regina's countenance as the evil queen. "Here it says Snow White and the Evil Queen are sworn enemies. That she cursed the entire land just to get revenge on Snow. Who does the evil queen bear a striking resemblance to?"

          Mary Margaret's brow creased thoughtfully as she stared at the book. "She looks like Regina." She gave Emma a disbelieving look. "Oh, come on. What could Regina possibly have against me? I've never done anything to her." She couldn't let Emma know how badly this bothered her. She had failed to mention the little visit Regina had paid to her jail cell. She didn't want to think of the malice that woman had displayed towards her. The mayor had actually been happy to see Mary Margaret behind bars and facing a trial which would ultimately destroy her life.

          Emma sipped from her wine glass and flipped through more pages. "According to the tale, you … Snow White … were instrumental in the destruction of Regina's true love. She blamed you for telling her mother about her plans to elope and she's held it against you ever since. When really it was Regina's mother who was to blame."

          "That's ridiculous!" Mary Margaret shrieked in defense of her other self, chewing thoughtfully on her lower lip. "How could she hold that against a child?"

          Belle raised a brow and dipped her spoon into her ice cream once again. "This  _is_  Regina we're talking about. She's all about revenge, and she'll place the blame where she wants rather than where it truly belongs."

          Ruby tied off Belle's braid and reached for the wine bottle, pouring herself another glass. "Alright, say it's true. Which fairy tale character am I?" she asked, an amused gleam in her dark brown eyes.

          Emma smiled and flipped to Ruby's story, showing her the likeness on the page. "You are Little Red Riding Hood. You should really read the story. It's different from what I was told as a child."

          Mary Margaret glanced at Belle. "Ok, Belle, who are you then?" she asked, not expecting her level-headed friend to buy into such nonsense. "You're not buying into Henry's fantasy, are you?" she asked incredulously when Belle dropped her gaze and refused to answer. Then again, did she really want Belle to answer? She'd been acting so out of character lately because of her pregnancy, there was no telling what would come out of her mouth.

          Ruby stretched out on her airbed and took the book Emma offered her to take a look at her supposed story. "This is really cool, even though it's too far-fetched to believe," she said with a wolfish smile as she thumbed through the pages. The smile vanished from her lips as she read the part about her being the wolf instead of just an innocent girl who meets a wolf while going to visit her grandmother. "Wait a minute.  _I'm_  the wolf? How messed up is that?"

          Emma flopped down on her back and rubbed at her temples. "Explain then how you were able to find David when he was missing in the woods? Explain how your senses are hyper aware."

          Ruby looked at each one of her friends in turn before shrugging, at a loss for anything to say. Mary Margaret chewed her thumbnail, wondering how she'd gotten drawn into this conversation. "So, I'm supposed to be Snow White, David is supposed to be my Prince Charming." Everyone nodded reluctantly. "Ruby is Little Red Riding Hood." She glanced over at Emma and opened her mouth to speak only to slam it shut and open it once again. "Who, pray tell, is Jefferson Madden, Emma?" she asked curiously.

          Emma groaned and pulled her pillow over her head. Belle grinned once again around her spoon and met her gaze with a level stare. "The Mad Hatter, of course," she retorted as though it were obvious.

          "Of course. And Regina is the Evil Queen bent on destroying me and my happily ever after." She rubbed her hands briskly over her face, trying to dispel the insanity threatening her sane little existence. "But that doesn't explain who you are Belle. Mind sharing with us all? I think it's only fair you tell us who you are if you expect me to believe me and David have a grown daughter," she said, her eyes boring into the pillow covering Emma's head.

          Belle laughed softly. "I thought that would've been obvious, Mary Margaret. I'm Belle from Beauty and the Beast."

          "And Gold is …"

          "My beast … Rumpelstiltskin," Belle finished, setting her empty ice cream carton aside and smiling in a way which would soothe the frazzled princess.

          Ruby sat up and giggled. "Hold on! I thought Rumpelstiltskin was an imp who stole babies and spun straw into gold or something."

          Belle glanced at the spinning wheel in the corner covered by a sheet, drawing their attention to it. "Since we're cursed and have no magic in this land, he can only spin wool," she said simply. "But he  _is_  Rumpelstiltskin … the most powerful mage to ever live. He's the spinner, the deal-maker, the Dark One and he's my beloved beast."

          "Wow, Belle, you're braver than I thought," Ruby chuckled, lifting her glass in a silent toast.

          Mary Margaret looked horrified. "How did you end up with someone like that?"

          Belle cast her a mischievous smile and laid back against her pillows. For the second time in her short lifetime, she began to tell the tale of how she'd met and fallen in love with Rumpelstiltskin. "Well, it all started with ogres threatening my kingdom …"

 

*.*.*

 

**Three hours later …**

 

          Gold, David and Jefferson stood around the island in Gold's not so immaculate kitchen cutting vegetables for the breakfast frittatas Gold wanted to construct so they'd be ready to shove into the oven the next morning. Jefferson stifled a yawn and shot him a withering look, which Gold ignored, his focus on the princeling. "Well, Mr. Nolan, did Miss Blanchard relent to your request?" he asked, an amused smirk pulling up the right side of his mouth.

          David looked up and nearly sliced off the end of his fingernail. He'd been lost in thought as to what he would talk about with Mary Margaret at their breakfast date and wasn't paying the slightest attention to his task. "Oh, um … she's going to breakfast with me tomorrow morning," he admitted with a fond smile as her image rose in his mind's eye.

          Jefferson grabbed pans from beneath the counter and looked at him over his shoulder. "Just try not to screw it up this time," he warned. "You really don't want Belle to give you another tongue lashing," he said, his amused laughter warming the kitchen.

          "I just don't understand how things could have gone so wrong," David confessed in bewilderment, dropping his gaze back to the mushrooms he was slicing.

          "Because, Mr. Nolan, there are forces at work in this town to keep everyone from experiencing happiness. If you are lucky enough for her to want to resume her relationship with you, you must grab hold of it and fight for every second of happiness you can get," Gold said, waving the chef's knife he was holding at David.

          Leroy and Walter came down the stairs and joined them in the kitchen, Leroy's eyes going wide as he watched Gold threatening David. Gold's gaze swung to the dwarf and he lowered the knife, wiping his hands on a kitchen towel. "All done, Mr. Gold. It was really easy once the three of you left us to it," he told him gruffly.

          "Thank you very much. I am certain Belle will be pleased," he replied. His expression was deadly serious and sincere as he shook both of the dwarfs' hands. "Our agreement stands, gentlemen. I will not be coming around to collect rent from you on the first."

          Jefferson was making a pot of tea when Gold returned to the kitchen after seeing Leroy and Walter to the door. David stacked the dishes in the dishwasher and Gold put the pans of uncooked frittatas in the refrigerator to await morning before taking a seat on the stools surrounding the island. Jefferson poured three cups and handed them out, pouring a liberal amount of sugar into his. A deep frown creased David's brow as he added lemon to his cup.

          "What's on your mind, Mr. Nolan," Gold asked, brow raised and his trademark smirk for once, missing from his lips.

          "Nothing, really. I was just thinking about Mary Margaret being just a room away and not being able to talk to her tonight. I don't even know what I'm going to say to her tomorrow," David lamented sourly, still angry with himself for letting the situation between them escalate to this point.

          "I imagine there's going to be a fair bit of groveling," Jefferson remarked over the rim of his cup.

          David cringed ruefully. "Without a doubt." He surveyed the two men in consternation. "I just hope I'm able to do the right thing, _say_ the right thing. I don't want to lose her again." He hesitantly, and not without a bit of fear, asked Gold, "Have you ever done anything to make Belle want to beat you with your own cane?"

          Jefferson burst out laughing, thankful he'd already swallowed his mouthful of tea. "Oh, man! I could tell you stories."

          Gold glared at him. "I don't think that's necessary, hatter."

          "No, seriously, when they first discovered their  _feelings,_ " he said, making air quotes, "for one another, it scared Nick to death. She was … uh … working for him as his housekeeper. He took it upon himself to bring her back to her father, told her he didn't want her anymore."

          David stared at him, wide eyed and disbelieving. Everyone in town had witnessed just how much Gold loved his wife and he was having a hard time wrapping his head around the idea that they'd gotten off to such a rocky start. "Did she believe him?"

          "I'm sitting right here," Gold drawled dryly.

          "She was furious," Jefferson laughed, ignoring Gold and enjoying his discomfort at the same time. "I, being her dearest friend, had to rush to her rescue. Her father can be a bit controlling," he said, watching a muscle in Gold's jaw start twitching at the mention of Belle's father. "She marched back into Nick's house and told him he was an ass, and that she wasn't going back. She told him she loved him, and she knew he loved her as well and to stop being a jerk and face it."

          "Hatter ..."

          David sighed and drained his cup, rising to his feet to take his leave. He needed sleep if he was going to have his wits about him the next morning. "So, you really think I have a shot?" he asked.

          Gold set his cup down gently on the counter and leveled him with a cold stare. "We sacrifice many things for the women we love. First and foremost, our pride. But once you secure her love for you, don't let it go again so easily."

 

*.*.*

 

          Jefferson crept into the upstairs doorway leading into the library after checking in on the children. They’d already been cuddled up in their sleeping bags in front of the TV, snuffling softly in their sleep. He peered over the gallery at the four slumbering women below and sighed. He’d been hoping Emma was still awake. He had no wish to go down the hall to the guest room he normally used and sleep alone in the cold empty bed. Perhaps if she'd give him a kiss goodnight, he'd be able to crawl between the sheets of his bed and actually get a decent night's sleep.

          He took in the scene before him and shook his head, biting his tongue to keep from laughing out loud. Mary Margaret was laying on her back, snoring softly, Red was curled on her side, mumbling in her sleep and kicking out with her foot every few minutes. He thought maybe she was having a dream of someone scratching her belly. Belle was frowning in her sleep and tossing and turning a bit too much. She was, no doubt, missing her own bed and the warm arms of her husband.

          But Emma wasn't asleep as he'd thought. She was lying on her back and toying with a loose thread on her blanket, her fingers plucking and pulling absently. Her emerald eyes shown in the firelight as he neared the edge of her airbed and he was surprised when she reached out to grab his hand, pulling him onto the bed with her and urging him to lie next to her.

          "I shouldn't be in here, rabbit," he whispered, lying on his side to face her. "I just wanted to see you before I went to bed."

          Jefferson had already changed for bed into a pair of cotton pajama pants and a soft t-shirt. She placed a finger to his lips and curled into his chest, slipping her arm around his waist and pulling the blanket up to cover them both. "Stay with me," she purred happily, pressing her lips to the scar on his neck. "I'll sleep better if you're here with me."

          His eyes nearly rolled back in his head as her warmth began to seep into him through his clothes. "Emma …" he breathed, delighting in the way she felt against him. "I don't think this is such a good idea," he protested weakly as her hand stole up inside his shirt and pressed against his bare chest.

          She nipped his ear with her teeth and tugged gently. She was rewarded by his sharp intake of breath and his arms tightening around her, his hands gripping her hips possessively. "Stay with me, Jefferson. I want you wrapped around me while I sleep," she said, her voice a husky whisper which coiled around him and decimated the last of his resistance.

          "You’ve talked me into it," he murmured against her lips as he claimed her mouth in a bruising kiss. He ravaged her mouth until she was breathless and panting in his arms, desperate for air. "I didn't know you were such a wanton little rabbit, Emma," he teased, tucking her head beneath his chin and chuckling softly against her hair.

          Emma willed her body to stop thrumming with need as she settled her head against his chest and sighed deeply. It was getting harder and harder to squash the desire she had for him and she was wishing he wasn't such a gentleman. "We could always go upstairs to your room," she said suggestively as she scraped her nails along his hip.

          He grabbed her hand and moved it back to rest against his chest. "Not yet, sweetheart," he groaned, dropping a kiss to her crown. "And definitely not in Nick's house."

          Emma snorted and closed her eyes, relaxing against him. On second thought, she could understand where he was coming from. Who would want to have to face Gold with a red face the next morning? It didn't matter how quiet they were, somehow the man would know what they'd done and tease them mercilessly.

 

*.*.*

 

          Gold lowered the book in his hands to rest on his lap and stared at the empty spot where his Belle usually rested. He glanced at the clock on the nightstand, the red digital display marking the time as two fifteen. He was exhausted, yet sleep eluded him. He hadn't slept in his bed alone since he'd rescued Belle from the mental ward so many months ago and the thought of sleeping without her now was devastating. He sighed and reached to turn off the lamp only to have his phone vibrate on the nightstand. He couldn't imagine who would be texting him at that time of the morning.

_Are you asleep?_

          It was his Belle, texting him from downstairs. Only she would do such a thing instead of climbing the stairs to see for herself.

**No, sweetheart. Missing you too much. )-:**

_I miss you, too. Come down here and sleep with me._

**I didn't think I was invited to your sleepover.**

_I can't sleep without you. I need you._

**On my way.**

          He climbed out of the bed and grabbed his cane, turning the light off and making his way to the library, his cane thumping softly against the metal spiral staircase which led directly into Belle's sanctuary below. He laid his cane down next to the airbed and slipped beneath the comforter covering his wife, pulling her against his chest. "What's wrong, my Belle," he asked, spooning against her back and trailing his lips along the curve of her neck.

          She hummed her pleasure and pulled his hand around to rest against her belly. "I have trouble sleeping without you," she explained simply.

          "Won't it upset your friends to wake up in the morning to find me in here with all of you?" he asked, sucking gently at the flesh beneath her ear and making her moan softly. "Not that I'm complaining in the least."

          She yawned and pointed at the bed next to hers where Jefferson was curled around Emma. "I don't think it matters. If Jefferson can come down to sleep with Emma, I can have you sleep with me."

          "That sneaky bastard," he chuckled softly against her ear.

          "I think he wanted to say goodnight to her and Emma made him stay."

          "And how do you know this, dearest?"

          "I was pretending to be asleep and heard her beg him to stay."

          He nuzzled his nose against her hair and breathed in her scent, letting it envelop him and make him relax against her. He could feel the pull of sleep now that he was where he was supposed to be. "I'm glad you asked me to come down here with you."

          "I'm happy, too, Rum. I love you," she whispered, her words slurred with drowsiness.

          "Love you, too, my Belle."

 

*.*.*

 

          Emma's eyes nearly bugged out of her head and she choked on the sip of coffee she had in her mouth as Belle and Nicholas entered the kitchen the next morning. "Damn, Gold," she said, holding up a hand for Jefferson to stop pounding her on the back. "I didn't even think you owned a pair of jeans."

          He smirked at her over his shoulder as he moved to the stove and set the oven to preheat so they could start on breakfast. Belle set about making tea, yawning as she did so, preferring tea over coffee like her husband. "Well, Miss Swan, apparently you were mistaken. It is Saturday. The shop is closed, and I plan to spend the day at home relaxing with my wife. Belle doesn't believe I can relax in a suit."

          Belle rubbed her eyes and grinned at Emma. "What he's trying to say is that I threatened to choke him with his own tie if he didn't try for a more casual look on our days off."

          Ruby snorted into her coffee. "Good one, Belles."

          Belle passed Jefferson a cup of tea. Gold looked affronted as he pulled the frittata pans from the refrigerator and Belle selected a frying pan from the cupboard to start on the bacon. "Where are the children? Still asleep?" Gold asked, sliding the pans into the oven and setting the timer.

          Jefferson closed his eyes, savoring the caffeine as it hit his system. "No, they're watching cartoons in the living room."

          Emma laid her head on Jefferson's shoulder, having scooted her chair closer to his. She opened her mouth to say something, when the doorbell rang. It couldn't be David, since he'd already picked up Mary Margaret for their breakfast date. She pushed Jefferson back down in his chair and rose to go answer the door. She was  _not_  expecting to see Regina on the porch, glowering at her with suppressed rage and a little surprise.

          "Regina, what are you doing here?" she asked, her brows raised in surprise.

          "I'm looking for my son," she hissed. "Where is Jefferson?"

          Jefferson popped his head into the hallway upon hearing his name, followed by his entire body as he moved to stand beside Emma. "Good morning, Regina," he greeted her dryly, curling his arm around Emma's waist and ushering Regina inside from the cold.

          The mayor marched past him, casting him a scorching glance. "Henry was supposed to be spending the night at your house, Jefferson. You had no right to bring him here."

          "No," he shook his head, drawing out the word just to irritate her. "You said Henry could spend the night with Paige. Which he did. You never specified that it had to be at my house."

          Emma held up both hands, stepping between the two when Regina looked as though she were ready to claw his eyes out. "Regina, what's the big deal. Henry was here with people who love and care about him. He was supervised and in a safe environment. I …"

          "You call this madhouse a safe environment?" she shrieked, her ire rising. It didn't help when Gold stepped out into the hallway to see what the commotion was.

          "Ah, Madam Mayor, what a …" his gaze raked her in an insulting manner. "… delightful surprise. Care to join us for breakfast?" He called to Belle over his shoulder. "Dearest, add a little hemlock to Regina's portion."

          Regina bit the inside of her lip to keep from baring her teeth at him in a snarl. "No thank you. I just want my son." She glared menacingly at Jefferson who stood his ground in the face of her wrath. "And he will not be left in your charge again. I promise you that."

          Emma raked a hand through her hair, exasperated with the scene Regina was causing. "There's no need to get upset. He's fine and he really enjoyed himself. It does him good to get out of the house and spend time with people he cares about."

          "He's my son. I will decide what's best for him," Regina retorted, her voice rising.

          "Mom, what is going on?" Henry asked as he came to the doorway of the living room. "Why are you so upset?"

          "Henry, get your things. We're leaving." She waited until he and Paige had gone up the stairs before turning to Emma. "You may think you're hot stuff, Sheriff Swan. Especially since you've gotten so chummy with Gold and his minions. But Henry is mine, and I have the full support of the legal system on my side to back me up. If I don't want him to associate with the lot of you, it's _my_ decision."

          "You would really hurt him like that? You would keep him a virtual prisoner in that mansion of yours just to spite me?" Emma asked incredulously.

          "I can, and I will," Regina snarled, her eyes narrowing malevolently, showing Emma every bit of hate she felt for her.

          Emma drew herself up and met her gaze with a hateful stare of her own. "Then hear this, Madam Mayor. I will  _not_  let you hurt  _my_  son. You want a war … you've got one."


	51. Chapter 51

**Two months later …**

 

          "How did this happen, Emma?" Belle asked anxiously. She carded her fingers through Gold's hair as she peered down into his sleeping face and worried her bottom lip between her teeth. It was hard for her to see her powerful husband confined to a hospital bed with a concussion and a hairline fracture to his already damaged leg.

          Things had been fairly quiet of late. They'd actually been able to go about their everyday lives in relative peace. The nursery was finished, and plans were moving along on where to start their search for Baelfire once the curse had been broken. Mary Margaret had somewhat forgiven David and they were happy, much to Regina's chagrin. Emma was happy, and Jefferson was ecstatic that she spent more time at his home than her own. Henry was the only one who seemed to be miserable.

          Regina had stayed true to her word and was keeping him under lock and key. She'd even gone so far as to put bars on the windows and a new alarm system to keep him a prisoner in his own home. The only thing keeping him going, was a secret passage he'd found, running beneath the mayor's house which came out at the cemetery, allowing him to have at least a little freedom to visit with Emma and keep up with Operation Cobra. Yet, none of that explained why Gold was lying in the hospital and Belle waiting anxiously to hear Emma's explanation.

          "Well," Emma hedged, dropping into a chair at Gold's bedside and pinching the bridge of her nose. "Today Gold and I were to meet with Regina and Spencer to …"

          "Spencer? The DA? What was he doing there for a meeting over custody?" Belle asked, her brow raising in surprise.

          "Apparently, he owed our illustrious mayor a favor. Not to mention, there are a shortage of lawyers in this town. Anyway, we were trying to come to an agreement, so I could at least see Henry instead of sneaking around and … well, you know how Regina is with Gold. We should have just let the lawyers meet by themselves to come up with something benefiting everyone involved, but Regina insisted she be present," Emma explained.

          Belle sat next to Gold on the bed and took his limp hand in hers. "He looks so pale," she murmured, waiting for Emma to continue.

          "Dr. Whale said he'll be fine, Belle."

          "I still don't know how this could've happened."

          "We were trying to come to an agreement. I wanted four hours three nights a week with Henry and every other weekend. Regina, of course, didn't even want to consider that. Gold threatened to have child services brought in over Regina keeping Henry locked up at home. They started yelling at each other over the conference table, which isn't really anything new. But then Gold insulted Regina's parentage and she attacked his own parenting techniques … something about driving his son away. I didn't know Gold had a son."

          Belle gasped in horror. Things were slowly coming to light as to what had happened. "Oh, that evil little harpy! How could she?" she fumed. "And yes, Nicholas has a son. They are … estranged."

          Emma shook her head and continued with her explanation. "Regina called him … well, I don't want to repeat what she called him. She was on her way to the door and he made a remark about her being insecure and weak and something to do with it being her own fault she'd lost someone named Daniel. It didn't help he was wearing that smirk of his. You know the one where you just want to punch him in the face?" she asked, wrinkling her nose. Belle nodded and rolled her eyes. "Well, she walked over to him … he'd been standing, by the way. She kicked him in his bad leg, he went down yowling from the pain and dropped his cane. So, she bends over to pick it up and whacked him on the back of the head with it."

          Belle's eyes were the size of dinner plates. "Did you arrest her?"

Emma leaned over and braced her elbows on her knees, staring at a spot on the linoleum. "Yeah, she's cooling her heels down at the station. Had Roger arrest her and get her booked while I drove Gold to the ER. I don't think I've ever seen him that mad."

          "Then why is he unconscious?" Belle asked, puzzled. If he'd only suffered a mild concussion, he should be up and still screeching and calling for Regina's head.

          Emma grimaced. "Oh, he was fine until he found out Whale was on call. He said he didn't want Frankenstein anywhere near his bad leg and threatened to beat him to death with his cane. Don't worry, I took it away from him before he could actually use it," she said when a look of alarm crossed Belle's features. "Whale had to sedate him so he could order some X-rays."

          "Gods! What a mess," Belle groaned, rubbing her thumb over Gold's knuckles. "And still no outcome on the custody, hmm?"

          Emma shook her head woefully, worried more for Henry than anything. Jefferson poked his head into the room and smiled at Emma. "Hey, rabbit. How's our patient?" he asked, pulling her up from her chair and into his warm embrace. His shift was nearly over and hopefully he'd be able to convince her to go out to dinner with him and Paige.

          "He'll be alright. I'm surprised you didn't hear him yelling in the ER," Emma said, chuckling softly, the sound muffled against his chest as he squeezed her tightly. "What time do you get out of here?"

          Jefferson glanced at the wall clock over his shoulder. "Forty-five more minutes."

          "I've got to get back to the station and make sure Regina's comfortable for the night and sign off on her paperwork. She's going to be foul. I can see it now," Emma said, groaning at the thought of having to deal with her nemesis.

          He dropped a kiss to the crown of her head. "Are you coming over later?"

          "Yeah, wouldn't miss it," she told him and swept out of the room, winking at him with a mischievous gleam in her eye.

          "Love you, rabbit."

          "Love you too, hatter," she murmured just before she disappeared, closing the hospital room door as she left.

          Jefferson beamed at the closed door like any fool in love. It had taken him long enough to get her to admit it. She was frankly irritated with him because he kept putting her off in the bedroom. He had wanted to make sure she was fully committed to their relationship. Now that he was certain of her love for him, his reasoning was moot, and he was getting tired of taking cold showers. He turned to Belle to find her studying him with a practiced eye. "What?"

          "Why are you hedging?" she asked from her perch on the bed.

          "I beg your pardon?"

          "Oh, don't give me that, Jefferson. Do you think I haven't already talked with Emma? I'm her friend and she confides in me. Now … why are you keeping her at arm's length? What are you afraid of?"

          He shoved his hands into the pockets of his scrubs and looked down at his feet. A simple move, making it clear to her he didn't want to answer something so personal. "I'm afraid of the curse breaking," he said honestly, leaving her to gape at him in astonishment.

          "What are you talking about? She loves you. You love her. What's to be afraid of?" she asked.

          "Belle, everything cannot always be looked at in this black and white view of the world you have. What if when the curse is broken, she decides to take Henry and leave Storybrooke? What if she doesn't think she can be happy here with me and Grace?" he asked, his voice lacking its usual confidence.

          Belle rose from the bed and wrapped her arms around her friend. He'd never once failed to be there for her, and she refused to back down and let him wallow in his insecurities. If it was one thing she was used to dealing with, it was male insecurity. "Oh, sweetheart, Emma's not going to leave you. She's in love with you. She didn't enter into this relationship with you lightly … not after she'd been hurt by Henry's father. She took a chance on love again because of you, darling. Don't push her away because you're scared. Rumpel did that to me and I had to fight my way back to him. Didn't you learn anything from that disaster?" she chuckled ruefully.

          He hugged her tightly and kissed her cheek. "As usual, you know how to cut right through to the heart of the matter."

          "Go. Tonight, when she comes home, talk to her and … well, you'll figure it out."

          Jefferson turned to go, leaving her with his boyish grin and a blush riding on his face as he thought of his lovely Emma. Belle rubbed her back as she paced at the foot of the bed, waiting for Gold to wake up from the heavy sedation he was under.

          She was trying to calm her raging emotions, her thoughts murderous towards Regina. How dare she lay a hand on Nicholas? It was so unlike her. Regina was more likely to strike without witnesses. She must've been furious to show her hand in front of Emma and the DA, knowing Gold would retaliate.

          "Hey," Gold said, his voice a raspy whisper as he called out to Belle to gain her attention.

          She rushed to his side and took his hand in hers, the other smoothing the deep frown from his brow. "Hey, sweetheart, how are you feeling?" she asked, brushing her lips to his in a feather-light kiss.

          "Like I have tiny little hammers pounding away in my head," he groaned. "What are you doing here? I thought you were going shopping with Mary Margaret." She gave him an are-you-serious raise of her brow. "Emma called you," he stated with a scowl.

          "Of course, she did. You're in the hospital, Rum. Did you think I wouldn't rush to your side, you silly man?"

          "I'm fine, Belle," he insisted.

          "Really? Ok … get up and walk to the bathroom. If your leg doesn't do you in, I'm sure the tiny hammers in your head will," she snarked dryly, never having to raise her voice to get her point across. He continued to scowl at her, knowing she was right. He'd never been able to fool her in the slightest, even before he'd admitted his love for her and sent her away. It had only gotten worse when she'd made him admit his feelings.

          She laid her hand over his when he went to snatch the IV from his arm, so he could get out of bed and get dressed. "Where's my phone. You need to call Dove and have him pick us up."

          "You're not going anywhere until you're discharged."

          "But, Belle … love …"

          "Don't patronize me, Rum. Now stay put while I get the doctor," she ordered, rising from the bed near his hip and leaving him to sulk.

          She returned moments later with Whale in tow, who looked like he'd rather be anywhere than near the scowling pawn broker. He stayed back from the bed, not wanting to be anywhere within throttling distance and took a look at the chart in his hand. He directed his evaluation to Belle instead. "He needs to stay off his leg for at least a week. The damage wasn't too serious and should heal fairly quickly. I've refilled his prescription for his regular pain medication. It should also help alleviate the pain in his head."

          "Regina and her damn pointy shoes," Gold mumbled under his breath.

          Belle shushed him and listened to Whale give her after care instructions. She didn’t hold the same grudge against the doctor as her husband did. Whale, she was sure, had had little choice but to follow Regina’s orders to keep her captive in the basement.

          "Thank you, Viktor, for putting up with him. I appreciate you caring for him," she said sweetly, smiling her thanks. Whale couldn't help himself and returned her smile. He still couldn't imagine how someone as sweet and beautiful, both inside and out, could have ended up with someone like Gold. He signed off on the discharge papers and left.

          "Now, darling, you are more than welcome to get dressed," she said, sending Dove a text with instructions to pick them up at the hospital.

          He accepted the cup of ice water she handed him, the icy liquid heaven on his parched throat. He was fighting off the last of the sedative, his raging headache and the desire to burn Regina's house to the ground. "I never thought she would resort to physical violence without magic."

          "Perhaps you pushed her a bit too far, hmm?"

          "Oh, dearest, she hasn't seen anything yet."

 

*.*.*

 

          After a week of convalescence at the cabin, at Belle's insistence, Gold was never so happy as to be back in the dark confines of his shop. He never wanted to have to depend on his Belle to nurse him back to health ever again. She'd had Dove stock the cabin with groceries and any amenities they'd need for their stay and then promptly sent him back to town. Gold had had no choice but to  _rest_  for an entire week, trapped with no way back to town. Not even Jefferson or Emma would help him escape his wife's hawkish glare. He'd even had to miss rent day.

          Belle had left him alone with his leg propped on a mound of pillows to make the rounds with Dove at her side. This could very well damage his reputation. She was kind where he was menacing, and his tenants found they'd much rather deal with her, several asking if she would be collecting the following month. The only one she'd had Dove collect was the payment her father owed, still not wanting to have anything to do with him until he could accept the fact she would not be leaving her husband and returning home to him.

          He'd had to put his foot down when it had come to his cell phone. She'd wanted him to have a completely rest-filled week and not lift a finger towards anything she considered work. He'd had to threaten to cut off her allowance and her access to the Barnes & Noble website before she had relented and left him be. Gold was still quite satisfied Regina was facing charges of assault and was ready to strike a deal. He would drop the charges if she would give in to Emma's request for partial custody. She had readily agreed. It wouldn't do for the mayor to have to do community service nor have a rap sheet. It would be difficult for her to remain in office and she couldn't have that.

          The curse around Storybrooke was wound taut as a rubber band and he could feel it stretching day by day, waiting for something to happen. It was Regina's move. Her fear grew by the day as she felt her power slowly slipping through her fingers and he was just waiting for her next desperate move to bring it all crashing down around her ears. Soon the curse would be broken, and he would bring magic back to this land. Then the queen would have no place to hide from his wrath. The queen and that wretched fairy who had kept his wife from him for nearly a year before the curse had been enacted. Both would pay for their treachery.

          Gold winced and shifted his weight to his good leg to relieve the pressure in his right, hoping Belle hadn't noticed the pained grimace flitting across his features. She was sitting in the back room on the small settee no one was ever going to buy, reading  _What to Expect When You're Expecting,_ a blatant look of horror marring her lovely visage. She looked like she was ready to have another of her panic attacks.

          "Rumpel, I don't think I can do this," she said in a low fearful tone.

          "You'll be fine, dearest."

          She began chewing her bottom lip thoughtfully as she set the book aside. "What if …"

          Gold moved to the settee and sat down beside her, pulling her into his arms. He held her for a long moment pressed up against his side, her head resting against his chest as his long fingers combed through her chestnut curls. "Everything will be fine. We will get you to the hospital in time. There will be doctors and nurses to see to your every medical need. There will be medication to help with the pain," he soothed, this not being the first time he'd had to alleviate her fears. "I will be with you, sweetheart, and everything will be fine. Do you really think I would let any harm come to you or our child?"

          She took the pocket square he handed to her, so she could dry her tears. "I'm afraid, Rum," she murmured, her voice quavering with anxiety.

          "Breathe, sweetheart. Nice deep breaths," he crooned, pressing his lips to her temple. He was going to have to talk to her doctor about these attacks she was having and hide every one of her books on pregnancy. It seemed it was getting worse the closer she came to her due date. "Women have been doing this since the dawn of time, but here in this land, you have the advantage of modern medicine."

          "I lost my mother, Rumpel. Did I ever tell you how?" she asked tremulously, her fingers twisting in the lapels of his suit jacket.

          His brow furrowed as he thought over all the conversations they'd had. She had always been so vocal about her father, but never about her mother. "No, I don't think you did."

          "She died in childbirth. She died giving birth to me." She lifted her gaze to his, her eyes brimming with tears which spilled down her cheeks and onto his hands as he cradled her face. "What if … what if that's our price to pay … for being happy, I mean? You might have made the curse, Rum, but Regina designed it to take away everyone's happy endings. What if this is her way of stealing ours?"

          "Listen to me, my Belle. Nothing is going to happen to you," he said firmly, his tone sharp as a blade in his insistence. "I need you … our baby daughter needs you … and I will not let you leave me. Do you hear?"  _And if there is a price to pay for our happiness, I will be the one to pay it,_ he added silently. There was no reason to add to her fears and put undue stress on the baby.

          "I _do_ hear you, Rumpel. I trust you."

          He pulled her back into his chest, curling around her in a protective embrace and rested his head atop her crown. He couldn't lose her. It was her fear spilling over into his own and making him just as anxious as she was. He would have his magic before the birth, he reassured himself. They were just going through the worry all new parents suffered and it was his responsibility to be strong for her. He was the Dark One after all. He would do what he must to protect his wife and child.

          Gold smoothed his hands over her hair in long strokes until her trembling subsided and her breathing became deep and even. She needed to rest. He'd thought a week at the cabin would have been restful for her as well, but she just couldn't keep from reaching out to her friends. She was too good, to kind, to let their petty problems go without lending advice. After the curse was broken, he was going to keep her locked away for at least a month … even if he had to lock the two of them in the basement. The stress wasn't good for her.

          He fished his phone from his pocket as it began buzzing, trying not to shift his weight and disturb his wife's restless slumber.  _Jefferson. Ah, more stress._ "What is it?" he asked, pressing the call button.

          "Henry's in the hospital," Jefferson answered, his voice flat and emotionless. No doubt trying to be strong for Emma.

          "What happened?" He tried to keep his tone low for Belle's benefit as she curled her hand around his waist and shifted against his side. She didn't need to wake up to this.

          "He was poisoned. He ate something at Emma's and collapsed. She's blaming Regina, so you know what that means."

          "Sleeping curse," Gold said, trying to keep the excitement out of his voice. His arm tightened around Belle and she whimpered softly, causing him to relax his hold. "How did this happen to the boy?"

          "Regina gave Emma an apple turnover as a gesture of goodwill about their new custody arrangement when Emma picked Henry up for the weekend. And we all know how Regina's special apples affect people. Henry took it away from Emma before she could eat it," Jefferson explained, an edge of anger entering his voice. “She must have had a bit of magic reserved down in that vault of hers to have pulled off this trick.”

          "So, in her desperation to hold onto the curse, she poisoned our dear Henry," he stated wearily. Gold could hear the opening of a car door and Emma arguing with Regina.  _What the …_  "What is Regina doing with you?"

          "We're on our way to see you. Are you at the shop or the house?"

          "Come to the shop. I'll be waiting."

 

*.*.*

 

          "Gold!" Emma called as she flung open the door of the pawn shop, the little bell quavering excitedly and threatening to crash to the floor. "Where is he? Jeff, you said he would be here." There was no time to waste on trying to track down Rumpelstiltskin when Henry's fate hung in the balance.

          Regina scoffed. "You can bet he's here lurking in the shadows somewhere."

          "Really not helping, your majesty," Jefferson snapped, casting a disgusted glare in her direction.

          Emma ignored them, drawn to the curtain separating the store from the back of the shop where muted voices could be heard. Before she could take two steps, Gold emerged from the back room, Belle trailing behind him rubbing the sleep from her eyes. "Gold, we need your help."

          Gold stopped behind the counter and gave his full attention to Emma. "Indeed, you do. It seems a tragic ailment has befallen our young friend." He turned the full weight of his angry gaze on Regina. "I told you all magic comes with a price. Perhaps you would have given the phrase more credibility if I had tattooed it on your arse," he snarled, causing Regina to shrink back momentarily before gathering her arrogance around her like a cloak.

          "Henry shouldn't have to pay it," Regina hissed.

          Gold placed his palms flat against the counter and sneered, "No, you should. If you hadn't been trying so hard to hold onto your precious vendetta and take out the savior, this never would have happened."

          Belle placed her hand to the small of his back and whispered, "Rumpel," in his ear, watching as the color began to recede from his face and the anger back off to a tolerable level he could control. His anger issues could be addressed at a more appropriate time.

          Regina's eyes flashed daggers at Belle. "You're awake? How long have you been awake?"

          "Beside the point, Regina! The fact of the matter is the child you raised, the child you claim to love, is lying in a coma because of you. There is no one else for you to blame. Am I to take it you have no more magic to aid us?"

          "That was the last of it," the queen admitted sourly, lowering her gaze from her glowering mentor.

          Emma braced a hip against the counter and squeezed the bridge of her nose, praying for patience. "Gold, can you help us?"

          Jefferson crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the wall as he watched Gold. He knew no matter how much he wanted to protect Emma in all of this, he couldn't. She was the savior and it was her destiny, her fate, to break the curse and he was helpless to stand on the sidelines and watch. He could only hope Rumpelstiltskin didn't push her past the boundaries of what she would be able to achieve.

          "Of course, he can, Emma," Belle said, reaching over to pat her hand in reassurance. Gold folded his hands together on top of the display case to stop himself from reaching for his wife. He didn't like the way Regina was eyeing her with malicious intent.

          "True love, Miss Swan, the only magic powerful enough to transcend realms and break any curse. Luckily for you, I happened to have bottled some."

          Regina's ruby lips parted on a gasp, her eyes filled with astonishment. "You did?"

          "Oh, yes," he smirked, meeting her gaze briefly before returning it to Emma. "From strands of your parents' hair, I made the most powerful potion in all the realms. So powerful that when I created the Dark Curse, I placed a single drop on the parchment. Just a little safety valve."

          Understanding dawned clear and bright in her green eyes. "That's why I'm the savior. That's why I can break the curse."

          Regina felt her heart clench. All her hard work was about to be flushed down the proverbial toilet. But there was still no guarantee Emma would succeed at the task of curse-breaking. This was about Henry. "Gold, this isn't about the curse. This is about saving Henry."

          "I really hate to say this," Emma huffed, her features twisted painfully and her tongue threatening to stick to the roof of her mouth. "But Regina's right. We have to save my son."

          Gold could feel the Dark One poke his head out of the cage he'd been imprisoned in and sniff appreciatively at the air. The bonds of the curse were weaker than ever before, and he could sense his freedom drawing ever nearer. "Which is why it's your lucky day. I didn't use all the potion. I saved some for a rainy day."

          Belle quirked a brow at her husband and leaned up to whisper in his ear. "You're enjoying this entirely too much, Rum."

          Gold flashed a genuine smile at her. "Yes, quite."

          Emma slapped her hand onto the display case to regain his attention. "Well, it's storming like a bitch. Where is it?"

          "You can bet you won't be finding it at the local drugstore," Jefferson quipped.

          Emma gave him that look she usually reserved for Regina and he shrugged.

          Gold smirked. "Where it is, isn't the problem. Getting it is what should worry you."

          "Enough riddles," Regina snarled impatiently. "What do we do?"

          Gold huffed with exasperation. " _You_ do nothing. It has to be Miss Swan." Regina needed to stay out of this; as he was convinced, she'd just muck it up.

          "He's my son," she persisted. "It should be me."

          Gold gave her a how-thick-can-you-get glare. "All due respect, but it's  _her_  son and it has to be  _her_. She's the product of the magic. She must be the one to find it."

          Emma swallowed around the lump in her throat and squared her shoulders. "I can do it," she said, thankful her voice was steady, not revealing the fear twisting viciously in her gut. She might be the savior and she might be brave, but the thought of her son's life on the line made her quake with fear.

          "Don't trust him," Regina told her.

          "Really, Regina, what choice do we have?"

          Gold cast her a crooked grin. “That’s right, dearie. What choice _do_ you have?”         

          Emma was beginning to get a headache from their bickering. "Where is this magic?" she asked, interrupting them before all-out war was declared between them.

          Gold measured his words to make certain Regina didn't miss his meaning. "Tell me, your majesty ... Is our friend still in the basement?"

          Regina drew back in horror. "You twisted little imp! You hid it with her?"

          The Dark One was rolling around on the floor of his cage, howling with laughter as Gold faced off against the queen. "No, no, no, not with her … _in_  her. I knew you couldn't resist bringing her over."

          "Who is  _her_?" Emma asked, feeling it would be easier to pull her own teeth than to get answers from the two of them. She needed a code book just to be able to follow their thinly veiled conversation.

          Gold picked up a dust cloth from the counter and ran it gently over the long case set on the counter. "Someone you should be prepared for. Where you're going, you're going to need this." He opened the case and shared a sly look with the queen. Of course, she wouldn't be pleased to see what rested inside.

          "What is that?" Emma asked. She knew what it looked like, but what the hell was she supposed to do with it? She was more comfortable with her sidearm and wouldn't know the first thing about swordplay even if the instructions were written on the handle. How could he expect to send her off on a quest to find magic with only a sword for protection?

          Gold's gaze was intense as he met her eyes, the brevity of the situation evident in his own. "Your father's sword."


	52. Chapter 52

**LII**

          Emma pulled away from Henry's bedside, fighting back the tears threatening at the corners of her eyes. It should be her lying in that bed, trapped in her own body. The sleeping curse had been meant for her. Not her son,  _never_  her son. At that moment, seeing him hooked to so many machines and tubes and wires, she would have happily traded places with him. She felt Jefferson's arms slip around her waist, trying to lend his support and a fresh wave of resolve took hold in her chest.

          "I need you to stay here and watch over our kids, Jeff. No matter what happens, I need you to take care of them," she choked out in a low tone, her voice husky with emotion. She'd never been so happy to have him in her life. She drew on his strength, on his love, and wrapped it around her, feeling it would help her deal with what lay ahead.

          Jefferson laid his chin atop her head and tightened his embrace. "I should be coming with you. I don't trust Regina won't leave you down there."

          Her jaw clenched tightly, and she fought down the rage threatening to choke her at the thought of the queen. "I can handle Regina. She has no magic and she's just as desperate to save Henry as I am."

          "Emma …"

          "Please, Jeff," she pleaded desperately, furiously brushing at a tear which had escaped to trail down her ashen cheek. "I need to know you're watching over them."

          "I promise."

          Emma stiffened as Regina opened the door and made her way to Henry's bedside, backing away to give her some room. Their eyes met, and she couldn't quell the hatred which flashed in her gaze. "You got ten minutes, so say what you gotta say," she told the queen, leaving the room and pulling Jefferson along behind her. Gold and Belle were waiting outside in the waiting room with Paige, trying to comfort their goddaughter.

          "Please be careful, rabbit," Jefferson said, pressing a kiss to her brow. "Come back to me."

          Emma could only nod, the wealth of emotions choking her not allowing her to speak. She left him there without another word or gesture, the slightly mad man she'd come to love, her path uncertain.

 

*.*.*

 

          Paige pressed her brow to the cool glass window, her eyes never leaving Henry as she watched Dr. Whale look in on his patient. He was her dearest friend, her confidante, her playmate and he shouldn't be lying in a hospital bed fighting for his life. This wasn't supposed to happen.  _How_  had this happened? They should be sitting on the sofa in Emma's apartment right now, enjoying movie night together, teasing each other over their taste in cinema and having a popcorn war. Instead, she felt as though she were dying inside. She couldn't lose him. She loved him and couldn't imagine what her life would be like without him.

          She brushed the hot tears away from her eyes and turned to her godfather where he stood at the window overlooking the parking lot below, unmoving and contemplative. "Uncle Nick, can I … can I go in and be with him?" she asked, her lower lip trembling. "Please."

          Gold looked around for any sign of Jefferson, feeling it was his permission Paige should be asking. But he hadn't yet returned from the snack machine. "Of course, dearie," he nodded, taking her hand and leading her into the room.

          Whale opened his mouth to protest Paige's presence, but one quelling look from Gold made him rethink whatever he'd been about to say and leave the room with a nod. Paige stopped at the side of the bed and felt a fresh wave of tears spill down her cheeks. "Can I touch him?"

          "Of course, sweetheart," he said, lowering the bed rail so she could get closer to her sick friend. "Talk to him, let him know you're here. I'll be right outside."

          She watched Gold leave the room and return to Belle's side before turning back to Henry. She picked up his hand from the bed and folded his limp fingers through hers. She brushed the hair away from his brow, her touch gentle and soothing and cupped his face in her palm. "You have to get better, Henry. You can't leave me." She rested her head against his shoulder, weeping softly. "I love you."

          Paige startled as she felt a heavy hand drop to her shoulder with a reassuring squeeze. She lifted her head from Henry's shoulder to stare into her father's sympathetic grey gaze. She released Henry and threw her arms around Jefferson's neck as he bent to lift her into his arms. "Papa, I can't lose him. He's my best friend."

          "Hush, my darling," he crooned softly to her, stroking his hand over her ginger locks. "They're doing all they can for our boy. You're not going to lose him," he vowed, praying he wasn't lying to his daughter. He knew how devastated she would be without the young boy lying so still upon the bed. "Before you know it, the two of you will be sitting at home having one of your tea parties with the March Hare," he said, referring to her favorite stuffed rabbit.

          "I just want him to get better."

          "I know, darling. We all do." He lifted her up onto the bed to sit next to her friend and retreated to a chair in the corner of the room to give them privacy.

          Paige talked to him, held his hand and promised Henry she would never leave him. She spoke of things they had done over the past year and things they would do together in the future. She never ran out of things to talk to him about and she could only hope he could hear her and that her words brought him comfort in the darkness.

 

*.*.*

 

          "I have to go, Belle, and I think it would be better if you stayed here with Jefferson while I'm gone." It had been a simple statement. A statement he hadn't expected her to question.

          "Where are you going?" she asked as she stood at the glass partition watching Paige snooze against Jefferson's chest. He'd pulled a chair up beside Henry's bed and settled his daughter on his lap, the farthest she would agree to be away from him in case he woke up.

          "I have an errand to run," he said evasively. He cleared his throat and cursed himself as his voice came out higher than he'd intended, a sure sign he was hiding something from her.

          Belle turned her probing jewel-bright eyes on him and his slid away guiltily. "Hmm. And what errand would that be, Rumpelstiltskin?" she asked, folding her arms over her chest and raising a questioning brow.

_Damn! She was using his full name. This didn't bode well._

          "Belle …"

          "Rumpel …"

          When he didn't answer, she turned defiantly on her heel and began making her way to the elevator, giving him no alternative but to follow. "Belle, where are you going? We haven't finished this conversation."

          "We can finish it in the car," she insisted stubbornly, stepping onto the elevator and pressing down the button to hold the doors open.

          "You're not coming, Belle," Gold protested.

          They continued to argue in the elevator, across the lobby, out into the parking lot and as she opened the car door and slid into the passenger seat. How did he let her continue to get her way? He was the feared Dark One. Did that matter one iota to his beloved? No. This was his price to pay for giving her his heart.

          "Belle …"

          "Rum, I love you. And normally, I would bow to your wishes …"

          Gold snorted dubiously.

          "… but I know that look," she sighed as she buckled herself in and turned to face him, covering his hand with hers.

          He quirked a brow. "What look?"

          "That plotting-to-create-mass-hysteria-among-the-populace look."

          "Fine," he huffed, turning the key in the ignition and putting the car in gear. "I just need to check on Emma."

          Belle chuckled ruefully as he pulled out of the parking lot and turned in the direction of the library. "Are you going to check on Emma because she's been left with her almighty high wickedness or are you going to check on her so you can steal the potion from her?"

          Gold gaped at her and narrowly avoided a cat which decided to cross the road in front of them. "Get. Out. Of. My. Head."

          "Just as I thought. Rumpel, what happened to doing this together?" she asked in a little hurt voice.

          "I wasn't expecting you to be pregnant when this all came to its conclusion."

          She glared at him hotly. "I believe it took the both of us to make this baby, Rumpelstiltskin, and just because I happen to be carrying it does not make me defenseless and weak." She turned away from him and stared blindly out the window, wishing she had something to throw at him.

          "I'm just trying to protect you, dearest."

          "Humph." She was silent the rest of the short trip, her anger abating somewhat. She was being too hard on him and she knew it. He'd been alone for so long before she'd come to the Dark Castle and then alone again, his happiness brutally ripped away from him when she'd been abducted.

          Centuries of doing things by himself and sharing his plans with not a soul was so ingrained in him, he sometimes forgot what it was like to share himself completely with her. But he needed to understand she was just as fearful of losing him as he was of her. She refused to sit by and let him rush off into danger without her by his side. She knew how to pick her battles.

          Belle twined her fingers with his where it rested between them and she could see him visibly relax. He raised her hand to his lips and brushed a kiss to her knuckles. "I expect you to be careful and come back to me, Rum." It might gall her all to hell, but she would remain safely in the car.

          "Oh, my Belle," he breathed, cradling her face in his hands and molding his lips to hers in a tender kiss. "Thank you for understanding."

          "Just be careful."

          Gold gave himself a mental shake and got out of the car. He didn't deserve her, would _never_ deserve her, yet he was unbelievably thankful for her all the same. She was willful, stubborn and obstinate, continually fighting for what she believed in, always fighting for their love, for  _him_. She challenged him, teased him and constantly kept him on his toes. And worse yet, she could see right through him. She stood up to him and called him down when she disagreed with his tactics, showing not an ounce of fear. Dark One or Spinner, she would let neither push her around. Sometimes he wondered whether it was true love or just his Belle, but either way, no matter what happened in the future he knew he'd never be able to give her up. And even if he could, she'd clobber him with his own cane if he tried.

 

*.*.*

 

          The library door opened under his touch with barely a whisper of sound, nary a creak of hinges. The rubber tip of his cane on the tiled floor was equally silent as he carefully shut the door behind him, his gaze falling on Regina where she stood next to the elevator controls, impatiently tapping her manicured nails against the panel as she waited for Emma to call to her. It was becoming increasingly difficult to maintain his mask of indifference where the queen was concerned. Every time he was forced to look upon his former apprentice, he was filled with hate, filled with incomparable loathing because she was the reason he'd lost so much time with his beloved … her and that meddlesome fairy.

          He had molded her and shaped her into the perfect pawn to cast his curse.  _Evil isn't born, dearie, it's made_ , he remembered telling Charming once. Well … he'd outdone himself when he’d made Regina. He hadn't expected her to blame him so thoroughly for the way her life had turned out, however. Just as the loss of her true love hadn't been dear Snow's fault. The little princess had been a child and no match for Cora's manipulations. But instead of placing the blame where she should, Regina had blamed Snow and made it her life's work to end her happiness or her life. She really didn't care which, just whatever came first.

          She'd crossed the line with him when she'd schemed with Rheul Ghorm to steal away his wife. And he was going to destroy her. Oh, not completely. Belle wouldn't tolerate that, convinced there had been enough murders blackening his soul. There were other ways to deal with their enemies without having it destroy yet another piece of the soul she found so precious.

          "Ah, dearie, I thought I taught you better to hide your emotions," he drawled, stepping out of the shadows, his voice whisper-soft in the gloom of the abandoned library. "Even with dear Henry's life on the line, you're hoping Emma fails in her quest."

          Regina was just able to hide her surprise as she whirled at the sound of his voice, but she wasn't able to conceal the fear lurking in her eyes or the shiver which shimmered along her spine at the menace in his silky voice. "What are you doing here, Gold?"

          Gold hooked the golden handle of his cane around a chair and shoved it across the floor in her direction. " _Please_ , sit," he commanded. He was going to miss that part of the curse when it finally ended. He did so love to push Regina's buttons.

          A sneer the likes of which she hadn't witnessed since the Enchanted Forest curled his lips as he set his cane aside and removed a roll of duct tape from the pocket of his coat. He could hear the Dark One giggle with glee as the color drained from Regina's face. "Just a little unfinished business, your majesty."

          "Gold, you can't do this!" she hissed, unable to move, frozen in place as he wound a length of the tape around her right wrist. "We have to save Henry."

          "Ah, but you see, dear, you were planning on disposing of Emma and playing the hero, weren't you? Can't let you do that, now can I?" he asked, setting about taping her left. "All your hard work lying in ruins around your designer pumps and you, helpless to do anything about it."

          Regina's eyes widened as she watched him lean heavily on his cane. "You want her to break the curse. I wonder why that is. Besides, even if she can break the sleeping curse Henry's under, it doesn't necessarily mean the Dark Curse will be broken."

          Gold laughed, a cold hollow sound in the stillness. "The Dark Curse was never meant to remain unbroken, Regina. Twenty-eight years, until such time as the savior could come and save us all from your twisted little vendetta."

          "But  _you_  made the curse.  _You_  wanted to bring us to this land," she insisted, ignoring the niggling seed of doubt at the back of her mind.

          "Yes, your majesty," he sneered, leaning forward in a threatening stance which had her pressing back fearfully in her chair. "And you were most accommodating in casting it for me. You really could have been more creative in your design, but you always did lack imagination."

          "You manipulated me."

          “And it was so easy. Now it is only a matter of time before the curse is broken and the citizens of Storybrooke awaken … howling for _your_ blood,” he said, his smile so wide, she could see the muted light glinting off his gold tooth. He tore off another strip of tape and covered her mouth, pressing a kiss to her brow and patting her cheek. “Enjoy it while it lasts, dearie.”

          "Regina! Regina start the lift!" Emma called from far below in the cavern. Regina whimpered softly, the sound muffled by the tape as she struggled against her bonds.

          Gold moved to the elevator panel and toyed with the mechanism until the car began to rise, watching it closely so he would be able to stop it in time. He didn't want to strand the savior there indefinitely, after all. She had a job to do, one just as important as the one he had to carry out. Just a few more moments.

 

*.*.*

 

          Belle sat up straighter in the passenger seat and watched excitedly as her husband, her sneaky manipulative imp, made his way out of the library, his cane in one hand and a familiar shiny golden egg clasped protectively to his chest. She reached for it with eager hands as he slipped into the driver's seat and propped his cane against the door.

          "Rum, it's still warm," she breathed in a voice filled with awe as she turned it over in her hands, inspecting it with her sharp eyes.

          He pulled the car back onto the road and chuckled at her. "What did you expect dearest? It's been resting in the belly of a fire breathing beast for nearly thirty years." He could only smile as he watched her pick at the lock with her fingernail. He patted his breast pocket reassuringly, focusing on the road. "And before you ask … yes, I brought the key."

          Her hands caressed the egg, her fingertips touching over every line and groove of the potion's protective shell. She could feel the gold cuffs about her wrists thrum and vibrate against her delicate skin, as if the magic inside the egg were reaching out to her. Ignoring his puzzled frown, she pried his hand from the steering wheel and laid it atop the ornately decorated egg. "Can you feel that?"

          "Magic." He shivered, the intensity of the potion radiating through his hand and up his arm. "Magic to find our boy."

          A sad little twist of her lips alerted him to her troubled thoughts. "Rum, I hope he likes me and can accept me as his stepmother." She didn't look at him, but out of the window as they drove through the forest and he took her hand, twining his fingers with hers. He knew it was one of her greatest sources of anxiety Baelfire wouldn't accept her and there was no amount of reassurances he could offer to alleviate her fear. She wouldn't begin to see how silly they were until she could finally meet him and see that Bae would love her.

          "How could he not, my Belle?"

          A wry grin tugged at the corner of her mouth. "You're my true love, Rumpel; you're biased."

          Gold stopped the car near the base of the trail leading to the old wishing well. He didn't know how it was possible, how the well had ended up housing the restorative powers of Lake Nostos, but nevertheless he was grateful. Dropping the true love potion in the well would be their best chance of bringing magic to Storybrooke. He just hoped he was right.

          "I suppose there's really no point of asking you to stay in the car?"

          A husky laugh which went straight to his groin bubbled from her lips. "Really, darling, I thought you would know me better by now."

          "As I thought." He climbed out of the car and rounded the front to open the passenger door and offer his hand to assist her, the golden vessel clutched tightly to her breast. Their progress was slow along the barely visible path as he led her forward, not wanting her to trip over a stray tree root. He was careful and attentive to her, ignoring the pain in his bad leg, concentrating on seeing her there safely. "Nearly there, sweetheart. Just a little farther," he murmured consolingly. Her swollen feet encased in her most comfortable pair of sneakers had to be paining her.

          They were in sight of the well when he felt it, the Dark Curse fragmenting around them. His name was a mere murmur on her lips as she collapsed in his arms, pulling them both to their knees, limbs entwined and the egg rolling away.

 

*.*.*

 

 _Too late. Too late. You're too late._ The words reverberated through her head over and over again until they left her bereft in a sea of shock and misery. She'd failed him. She'd failed her son. It was becoming harder to breathe, harder to think as she watched him lying there motionless, so small and lifeless in the too big hospital bed. He couldn't be gone. She'd just found him.

          Her nerve endings were screaming in denial at the same time as her body felt numb. It should've been her, not her precious boy. This was their second chance to be a family and it had been ripped away. She felt helpless, hopeless. She needed Jefferson, but he was standing some distance away, a hysterical Paige wrapped around him and needing his strength. How was she supposed to say goodbye? She'd never told Henry how much she loved him, never told him how important it was that she had him to share her life.

          Emma forced her legs to work, edging towards the bed. The nurse, busy unhooking Henry from various wires, went unnoticed as Emma stretched out her hand to brush the hair from his brow, flinching slightly at the coldness clinging to his ashen skin. How could her son, so full of life and happiness and annoying optimism be so cold under her touch?

          She tried to swallow around the lump of emotion in her throat and made a sound resembling a choked sob as she leaned over him to press her lips to his temple. In that moment, everything she'd shared with him, all the moments she'd spent with him since coming to Storybrooke weighed heavily on her heart and she was no longer able to hold the words back. She may not have been able to say them in life, but she would not keep them from him in death.

          "I love you, Henry," she whispered as she leaned over to press her lips to his brow for the last time.

          She couldn't bring herself to leave him, drowning in the despair of losing her child. Regina sobbed openly behind her, her face buried in the front of Dr. Whale's lab coat, the sound grating to her raw nerves. She just wished she could clear the room and be alone with her son, to spend just a few more moments with him. But she knew it wouldn't be enough, a lifetime wouldn't be enough time to be with him. She felt as though a piece of her heart, her bruised and battered heart, had died along with him and no one or nothing would ever be able to heal her.

          A pulse of pure magic, blinding and brilliant in its radiance, shimmered through the room and Henry drew a sharp breath. Emma took a step back, confused yet jubilant as he looked into her eyes and said, "I love you, too." She gathered her child in her arms, laying a hand to the side of his face and assuring herself she wasn't dreaming.

          "You did it," Regina gasped, her eyes wide and disbelieving. Emma ignored her, stepping back from the bed as Paige shoved her way past her and climbed up on the bed with Henry.

          "Don't you  _ever, ever_  do that to me again," Paige said, throwing her arms around Henry and clinging tightly to him in her relief. Before he could promise anything, she continued to scold him. "You will never eat anything the queen gives you again. I don't care if I have to bring you food from my house, or Granny's, or Tony's Pizza every night. This is  _not_  happening again. And …"

 

*.*.*

 

          Belle fought her way out of Gold's arms, shaking her head to clear it and scrambling after the egg. Quickly she grabbed Gold's cane and tossed it in front of the rolling vessel, blocking its path before it could gain momentum and plunge over the side of the steep slope leading to the stream below. Neither she nor Gold were in any shape to grapple down to retrieve it. She clutched the egg to her chest with both hands as Gold's arms wrapped around her upper arms and pulled her to her feet.

          "That was close. Are you alright, sweetheart," he asked, checking her for injuries, his hands gentle in their search. He peppered her face with kisses in his relief and she withstood it all with a small loving smile upon her lips. She could practically feel his heart trying to escape his chest in his upset that she could have been hurt.

          Belle shifted the egg to her left arm and reached up to pet his hair, her touch soothing him. "She did it. Emma broke the curse," she murmured absently, accounting for the unexpected wave of dizziness she'd suffered. Her husband, however, looked as if he for once couldn't care less about the curse. He was too focused on her. "I'm fine, Rum." He dropped his brow to rest against her shoulder and took a deep breath, inhaling sharply and letting her warm scent wrap around him. "It's alright, darling, I'm fine."

          His voice was muffled against the crook of her neck. "You were so close to the edge. If you had fallen …"

          "Shh, love." She pushed gently against his chest until he met her concerned gaze. "I didn't. Now, I believe we have a task to complete," she said firmly, making him focus. She was certain, later when she had time to think about how close she'd come to tumbling down the steep slope, she'd be seized with panic, but now was not the time. She was exhausted from lack of sleep and they still had work to do. Later would be time to panic when she was lying in bed with her husband there to comfort her.

          Gold led her to the well and took the egg from her, setting it on the stone surface and withdrawing the key from the breast pocket of his jacket. He fitted the key to the lock and opened it, the glowing purple potion shimmering just as brightly now as it had when he'd entrusted the egg to Charming to stuff it down the gullet of a dragon. Belle's eyes gleamed with curiosity as she ran her finger over the vial. He lifted it from the innards of the egg and removed the stopper, glancing briefly from the potion to the depths of the well.

          He placed it in Belle's hand, his fingers curling over hers. "Together?"

          Belle smiled. "Together. Always."

          They released their grip on the vial and watched as it plunged into the depths of the well, stepping back as it hit the waters below. Great plumes of violet mist billowed from the well to spread out and wrap around them before drifting in the direction of the town. He wrapped his arms tightly around his wife, steadying and supporting her as the magic seemed to permeate their every pore. Their breath hitched, their hearts sped, and gooseflesh broke out upon their skin as the power invaded their senses. He watched her closely for any signs of distress, but the only hint of the magic invading her was the sharp jewel brightness of her eyes and the glowing gold at her wrists.

          The Dark One was awake, his power surging and fighting to be loosed, but with it came subservience to his mistress. His mistress held the power of the dagger and he fell to his knees before her. The pain in his ankle was excruciating as he knelt before her, but it was nothing compared to his desire to please her, to serve her … to love her. He bowed his head and closed his eyes, unable to speak, unable to move without her command.

          Belle's hands delved into his hair, tugging gently to make him look at her, but he wouldn't budge. "Rum? Rumpel? Why won't you answer me?"

          Finally, at her question, his tongue unglued itself from the roof of his mouth. "You haven't given me permission, mistress."

          Belle cursed silently and lifted his face to force him to meet her gaze. With a flourish of her right hand, she summoned the kris dagger bearing the Dark One's name, her fingers closing tightly around the handle. The surge of power flowing through her was like a comforting caress, a fond memory of their days together in the Dark Castle when he'd spent his days teaching her magic and his nights in her arms. "I forgot about the dagger, love. Sorry. My Dark One, I bid you to rise before me. I grant you your free will. I bid you not to be chained to my word unless I command it. You will be my lover, my husband and my partner … never my slave."

          Gold rose before her and hauled her against his chest, his lips crashing down upon hers. She'd forgotten how lusty he became when she commanded the dagger. She returned his kiss, nipping at his bottom lip only to be rewarded by a growl which rumbled deep in his chest. Oh yes, her dark lover had been awakened and she found that a reason to rejoice.

          He ran his hands gently over her back as he tried to get himself back under control, to rein in his desire and concentrate on getting her back to the car. "I'm sorry, dearest. I didn't mean to attack you."

          "Don't apologize for showing me how much you want me, Rumpel," she said, giggling at his sheepish grin. She took his arm and let him lead her down the path. "What are we going to do now?"

          He sighed wearily and ground his teeth together. "Now, my darling, we return to town. I'm certain there will be many questions we'll have to answer. But first, we're going to take care of a little problem."

          "Regina."

          "Oh, yes. It's time to show her majesty what it's like to be on my bad side."

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Yay, the curse is broken and Rumpel is ready to take care of unfinished business. Poor Regina! She's not going to be happy. Here's what's next: 
> 
> Rum and Belle are going to deal with Her Majesty and the Blue Fairy. 
> 
> Bae is going to be reunited with his father in a most unexpected way. 
> 
> Baby shower! 
> 
> The Rumbelle baby we've all been waiting for. 
> 
> This is not going to all happen in one chapter, but I wanted to give you a hint as to what I had planned next. Thank you all for the wonderful reviews, follows and favorites. Your support has fueled this story every step of the way and I can't tell you how much I appreciate you all. I hope you have all enjoyed this chapter as much as I have enjoyed writing it. It's now one of my favorite chapters. Would love for you all to drop me a line and let me know what you think. xoxoxo


	53. Chapter 53

          This was shaping up to be one of those days which had Emma wishing she'd stayed in bed. But she would've had to actually have been to bed in order to do that. She was running on pure adrenaline and it was steadily running out. The curse had finally been broken, true love's kiss not only saving her son, but also freeing the citizens of Storybrooke from the listless existence they'd been forced to endure for the past twenty-eight years. She wondered, if Henry had never been poisoned, if she would have had to go around kissing each citizen to have their memories returned. It had worked with Graham. She had one powerful pucker, she thought hysterically and was just able to stifle the giggle bubbling in her throat.

          She didn't need her parents to think the stress had finally gotten to her. Her parents. Hell! What had she ever done to deserve having a mother who looked more like her sister than her parent? And she didn't even want to think of her father. He was being awfully quiet, she thought, cutting her eyes in his direction. Well, he was being quiet now. They had just saved Regina from an angry mob out for her blood and were leading her down the front steps to escort her to the sheriff's station. Thankfully, the mob had chosen to listen to Snow and Charming and there hadn't been any bloodshed. Not that Emma would be opposed to a little bloodshed at the moment.

          She was still furious Gold had double-crossed her about the potion. Neither he nor Belle were answering their cell phones, and the voicemails she'd left were quite colorful. She wanted an explanation and she wanted it now. Preferably before her mother could voice all the thoughts clearly written in her dewy eyes. She so wasn’t ready to face  _the talk_. All she wanted was to hide out in the big white mansion at the edge of town with Jefferson and their kids, curled up with hot chocolate and maybe some cinnamon rolls. Of course, she wasn't getting  _anything_  she wanted today.

          Regina struggled against the iron grip Charming had around her upper arm and glared at Emma. "You can't just lock me up. I haven't done anything wrong."

          Emma quirked a brow at her majesty and snorted. "The last five minutes don't count," she snorted, stopping in the middle of the walkway and crossing her arms over her chest. Leave it to Regina to want to continue to shirk any responsibility for her actions. "We're doing this to protect you until we can decide what to do with you."

          "Do with me?" Regina asked incredulously. "I don't see you trying to arrest Gold. He's the one who made the curse which brought us here. He needs to be held accountable for his part in this."

          Charming sighed in exasperation and turned his attention to his daughter. "We could always hand her over to Whale."

          "That wouldn't be the best course of action," Mother Superior, who had been following discreetly behind them, answered emphatically. "She could regain the use of her powers at any time and she wouldn't hesitate to slaughter Whale and his cohorts."

          "If there's magic here, can't you help us contain her?" Snow asked.

          The Blue Fairy turned nun shook her head disparagingly. "This is a land without magic. Bringing magic here has made it unpredictable. There are no wands, no fairy dust and little I can do without either."

          Regina's eyes held a hint of laughter as she stared at Blue. "Well, well, that's going to make it rather difficult for you when Gold finally catches up to you."

          "Indeed," came a decidedly cold voice with its lilting accent before the nun could reply. He stood at the end of the walkway, closest to the street, blocking off their exit. "Time to collect on old debts, dearies."

          "I'd say it was past time, wouldn't you, darling?" Belle asked from her position behind the little group, her eyes flashing and the gold cuffs about her wrists beginning to glow faintly. The two former co-conspirators both paled as they realized - without magic - they were left at the mercy of the Dark One and his lady.

          Belle forced the Charmings and Emma back with a flash of blue light as wisps of black smoke curled around Regina's feet and snaked up her body to bind her. Belle was left to deal with Mother Superior and quickly had her bound as well. Emma hauled herself up from the ground, wincing from where she'd landed on her hip. "Time out! How the hell do the two of you have magic when no one else does?"

          "Really Miss Swan, do you think I would have gone to all this trouble to create such a complex curse without including a few little perks for myself? And those bound to me?" he asked in a biting tone. He truly liked the savior, but sometimes it was just tedious to try to have a conversation with her. "Now we are taking these traitorous harpies away, so they won't be able to harm anyone else. Would you care to join us? Your parents are welcome to come along as well," he offered graciously when he'd rather leave them all behind. It was Belle's insistence they be granted the chance to learn the truth about someone they trusted so fully.

          Snow reached out and touched the dark smoke-like rings around the blue fairy and recoiled as a spark skipped painfully against her fingertips. Her accusing eyes flew to Belle. "Why are you doing this? Blue has done nothing wrong," she tried reasoning. "I mean, come on, she's the Blue Fairy. She's one of the good guys."

          Gold let out a giggle reminiscent of the imp he used to be. "Goodness and light are overrated. Show me any being who can exist without just a wee bit of darkness and I'll lay down my magic for good at your very feet," he scoffed. "Why do you think Belle is my perfect mate? She brought light into my darkness just as I brought my darkness into her light. We balance each other perfectly. Rheul Ghorm has darkness in her, darkness she fights with every breath and tries to mask it until it eventually gets the better of her."

          "This is outrageous!" Charming blustered, stepping forward to free Blue. Gold let the shock, which went through the princeling, silence him for the moment.

          Belle chose then to step up to her husband's defense. "Blue took me from Rumpel. She abducted me right out of your palace, Snow, the night of your wedding and held me prisoner for ten months before the curse was enacted. Then Regina held me in the ward beneath the hospital for the last twenty-eight years. If anyone has a right to deal with these two, it's me and Rum."

          Charming looked as though someone had kicked him in the chest. Snow looked betrayed and Emma just seemed confused. "We helped with Rumpelstiltskin's search," Snow told Belle, her eyes showing the sorrow she'd felt over her friend's disappearance before it was swiftly changed to one of anger as she rounded on the fairy. "I came to you," she accused. "I came to you and asked you to help and you assured us you had the fairies searching. You insisted you'd put aside your animosity for the Dark One and would aid us for Belle's sake."

          "I was trying to help her," Blue insisted, squirming against the magical bonds. "The Dark One  _cannot_ love. He is evil incarnate, and it is simply not possible. He drove his own son away. He would have destroyed Baelfire if he'd stayed and he would have done the same to Belle given enough time."

          "It's your fault he's gone. You just couldn't refrain from interfering in our lives," Gold hissed, his lips curling back over his teeth as he snarled at her.

          "You could have been with him if you hadn't been such a coward. You could easily have followed him here, but you were too weak to give up your power for your only child," Blue railed back at him, all pretense of being a creature of light bleeding away in her anger.

          The tight control Belle had on her magic slipped and the bonds tightened painfully. "My husband is not a coward and I'll thank you to cease your prattling … now," she said, giving it a little extra squeeze. "Rum, we need to go … _now_."

          Gold's features softened as he took Belle in. He was amazed she hadn't collapsed under the weight of the magic she was using, and it made him proud of her all over again that she was strong and resilient in her will.

          "Miss Swan, if you would," he said, offering his hand to magically transport her to their destination. Charming and Snow took a step back, refusing to let him take them anywhere, but Emma decided to take a leap of faith, her impatience overruling her good sense, and grasped his hand. Belle would be following with Blue.

          "Where are you taking us?" Regina asked, her voice quavering slightly in anticipation of what he had in store for them.

          Gold grinned. "Somewhere you won't be able to cause any more trouble, dearie."

 

*.*.*

 

          Emma stumbled as Gold released her, coughing and sputtering as she fought her way out of a cloud of violet smoke, her head swimming dizzily. Gold smirked as he led Regina forward and thrust her into a familiar cell. At least to him it was quite familiar. "Where the hell are we, Gold?" Emma asked, watching Belle as she prodded Blue forward toward the waiting cell.

          "This, my dear Emma, is where your parents imprisoned me before the curse was enacted," Gold informed her. Belle placed her right hand in his and raised her left, copying him gesture for gesture. Their hands glowed a fiery red as the bars closed like a gaping maw, enclosing the queen and the fairy in their stone prison. "But unlike Charming insisting upon using fairy magic to imprison me, Belle and I are using dark magic; magic only accessible to the two of us."

          Emma paled. "Regina has access to dark magic and you know it won't be long before she regains her powers."

          "Not this magic. The spell I concocted is part blood magic. They can only be released if Belle and I cast the spell … together."

          Belle yawned, the meager spells she'd performed that morning having left their mark on her and sapped her strength. "The cell will bind Regina, preventing her from regaining her magic for as long as she remains inside. It's no less than she deserves, but kinder than anything she could have come up with to use against Rum."

          "But you can't mean to leave Mother Superior down here with her," Emma protested. She couldn't think of a worse fate than being forced to share the same cell as Regina.

          "Of course not. This is only temporary, Emma. Rumpel is arranging for her to be relocated to a convent in another part of the state. I vote for one across the country, perhaps in California," Belle replied, linking her arm through Gold's and turning toward the mouth of the tunnel and out of their prisoner's earshot.

          "Relocated? I thought bad things happened to people when they tried to leave Storybrooke," Emma frowned, following the pair. "And what of Regina? Are we just supposed to leave her down here indefinitely?"

          Gold leaned forward to meet Emma's gaze, his hands crossed on the handle of his cane. If it were anyone other than the woman who'd just saved them all, he'd never bother with an explanation, but she'd been through quite enough. "Truthfully, I can't say what will happen to Rheul Ghorm. Just know I won't kill her. The curse has so many layers and now that we've brought magic here, there's no way to determine the consequences for crossing the border until the theory has been tested. You might want to get someone on that. I'd like to recommend your father for that task."

          "Rumpel, shame on you," Belle chided, finding it hard to hide her smile. She wondered if her husband and the princeling would ever learn to get along. "I think we should send Ashley instead. It's not like she would be a big loss."

          Gold chuckled. "Still holding a grudge, dearest?"

          Belle reached up and brushed the hair away from his eyes before resting her hand on his cheek, her eyes sparkling with warmth. "She lied to you, she tricked you, she lent her aid in locking you up and worst of all … she broke a deal with you."

          He absently caressed her swollen middle as he nuzzled into her palm. "It was necessary."

          "That doesn't change the fact that she doesn't …" Belle said, the hackles rising on her arms. The more she thought of Cinderella's treachery, the harder it was to control her anger. Now that magic had returned, it wouldn't do for her anger to be unleashed. She had the blood of the Dark One running through her, and even infinitesimal as it was, the magic fed off her anger and made her unpredictable. His fingers kneaded her nape, his blunt nails scratching lightly and helping her to calm. For now, she'd let the matter drop. "As for Regina, the cell will hold her until you wish to release her, something I don't recommend until Rumpel is able to brew a binding potion to keep her from regaining her powers."

          "He can do that?" Emma asked, trying to wrap her head around what had to be the strangest conversation she'd ever had.

          "Of course, he can. He's the Dark One. There's very little he  _can't_  do," Belle said proudly.

          Emma shook her head. "How is it you have power?"

          "Because, Miss Swan, she is my wife, my true love and the greatest gift I've ever been fortunate enough to receive," he explained, looking down on his wife with such an open expression of love shining in his dark brown eyes, Emma had to look away for a moment. "She is bound to me by love, by blood and by magic. She's nearly as powerful as Regina, but instead of using her magic for evil and petty revenge, she uses it for good. You don't have to fear she's going to wreak havoc on our little town."

          "I wasn't implying she would, Gold. I would expect that more from you," she said, tapping her booted foot in her impatience.

          Gold could hear the sound of scurrying feet in the tunnels and turned to Emma. "Do you have any more questions before your parents descend upon us?" he asked, a knowing smile playing with one corner of his mouth.

          "Yeah. If you are all about helping me, why'd you steal the potion from me and leave Henry to die?" she asked bitterly, hands on her hips, her thumb caressing the butt of her sidearm.

          "Henry was never in any danger. True love, Miss Swan, can break any curse. You had that power in you all along and never needed a potion to tap into it as you've already discovered. The potion was always intended to bring magic here."

          "But why? Why did you have to bring magic here? If this is a land without magic, couldn't there be repercussions for bringing it here?" she asked curiously. "Like you said, all magic comes with a price."

          Gold's teeth gnashed together as Snow and Charming rounded the corner and entered the tunnel. "Rumpelstiltskin!" Charming bellowed as he strode towards them. "Snow and I have discussed this, and we can't in good conscience let you lock up Mother Superior."

          Belle tightened her hold on his hand and twisted her fingers in the lapels of his jacket. She could feel the magic whirling through him, ready to strike the prince down. But before she could intervene, Emma stepped in front of them, blocking off her father's imminent tirade. "Actually, David, they can. I believe Gold and since I am still sheriff, we're going to keep them locked up … for now."

          Snow ground the heel of her shoe into David's instep when he opened his mouth to argue with his daughter. "Emma, Archie and Red have organized a shelter at city hall, giving aid to those who are searching for their families. It might be a good idea if we offered to help now that Regina is locked up where she can't hurt anyone."

          "Do you need help?" Belle asked. "I'm certain there's something I could do …"

          Gold firmly gripped her elbow to halt her in her tracks. "Belle, the only thing you're going to do is help yourself into a hot bath and a warm bed. I'm taking you home to rest."

          Snow and Emma seemed to agree with him at least on this. "He's right, Belle. Let him bring you home and take care of you," Emma said with a small smile. "I remember how tired I would get when I was pregnant with Henry. You don't want to overtax yourself and end up in the hospital."

          "Fine," Belle acquiesced reluctantly. There was so much she could, no doubt, accomplish helping those displaced by the curse and only grudgingly did she allow Gold to lead her towards the mouth of the tunnel.

 

*.*.*

 

          There were only two words to describe the scene at city hall … organized chaos. Henry, Paige and the Tillman kids were handing out blankets, Red was directing citizens to different tables set up around the courtyard, depending on their needs. Granny, in fact, had one where she was serving hot soup and sandwiches while another held cards to fill out with personal information to be tacked on the cork board in the center of the square. Archie was offering free psychoanalysis to those suffering from PTSD and Jefferson was helping wherever Red directed him, wanting to do his part.

          Emma ignored it all, especially her mother. Snow, for the last six blocks, had been trying to have  _the talk_  with Emma about their separation, the curse, Emma's childhood and anything else she found pertinent. Emma didn't want to talk about any of it. She had a job to do and she didn't have time to deal with her mother's insecurities, much less any of her own. But when she arrived at the square and saw Jefferson, all thoughts of duty and obligation and her parents flew right out the window. She made her way to his side and slipped her arms around his waist, burying her face against the soft silk cravat tied around his neck.

          "Rabbit …" Jefferson breathed against her hair, wrapping his arms tightly about her and pulling her into his chest. "I've been worried. Are you alright?"

          "Shut up, hatter, and just don't let go. I only need a minute," she said, her tone a shaky whisper as she clung to him. She needed a minute to just feel something besides gut-wrenching terror, heartbreak and confusion. Jefferson had the uncanny ability to make her feel grounded and secure when her emotions were threatening to overwhelm her and that was exactly what she needed at the moment. She'd been through the wringer both physically and mentally in the last twenty-four hours. She could do with five minutes to herself.

          Jefferson rubbed soothing circles along the ridge of her spine and she could feel the tension slowly drain away from her muscles. She needed him, the first person she'd allowed herself to feel anything for in the past ten years. She needed Henry, her beloved son and even Paige. She felt a sense of belonging with the three of them she feared she'd never have with her parents. It's not as though she wasn't willing to try, she just wasn't ready. She stiffened as she felt arms come around her and Jefferson from either side, but relaxed and even smiled when she looked down to find Paige on her left and Henry on her right, surrounding her in a cocoon of love and support.

          Henry's eyes were soft and warm as he gazed up at his mother. "Everything ok, Mom?" he asked, a sad little smile curving his lips.

          "As well as can be expected," she croaked, stepping back and ruffling his hair. "Regina's where she can't hurt anyone, and no one can seek revenge against her."

          Jefferson snorted. "I wouldn't say that. Rumpelstiltskin, whom she hates almost as much as Snow White, is going to bind her from ever using magic again. I'd say that's a good deal of revenge. And you, my love, have taken Henry away from her. She can't be in the best of moods at the moment."

          "She has Mother Superior to keep her company, so at least she's not alone," Emma reasoned, rubbing her brow wearily. "Gold's having her transferred to another convent. Did you know?"

          "Contrary to popular belief, Rumpel doesn't tell me everything. Belle probably came up with the idea to keep him from killing Blue. Belle doesn't want her husband's soul damaged any more than it already is," Jefferson replied, steering their little group over to where Granny was serving hot chocolate and muffins and an assortment of sandwiches.

          Emma took a Styrofoam cup from Jefferson and scanned the crowd for her parents. They were deep in discussion with several of the dwarves and it didn't look like any of them were happy with the news the dwarves had to impart. She was beginning to wonder if this day would ever end.

 

*.*.*

 

          "Bloody closed sign. Waste of good money," Gold mumbled sleepily, coming awake as he realized what had woken him. The wards around his home rippled, alerting him to their visitor. He didn't want to get up. He'd only laid down a mere two hours ago after calling in favors to have Mother Superior transferred to a convent across the country.

          His little wife had been adamant about him not killing the meddlesome fairy and so he'd promised, wishing only to please her. He lived for her happiness, because when Belle Gold was happy, everyone was happy. He nuzzled his nose against her nape and trailed hot open-mouthed kisses up to her ear. She rewarded his attentions by pressing her silk clad bottom against his groin and pulling his arm tighter around her.

          "Someone's at the door, love," Belle mumbled sleepily, turning her head to meet his lips.

          He finally cracked open an eye to glare at the digital clock on the nightstand. Six o'clock in the evening. "I wonder which one of the Charmings we'll be dealing with this evening. Since the door is still standing, I'm going to assume it's not the shepherd."

          Belle scooted out of the bed before he could snatch her back and disappeared into the closet in search of something to wear. She chose a simple yellow sundress with a pattern of violets adorning the hem and a purple cardigan. "Are you ever going to get along with the prince? He's not David Nolan anymore, Rum."

          Gold smirked and conceded. "I know, dearest, but that doesn't mean the man doesn't annoy me. Although Charming is much easier to stomach than his alter ego. What  _was_  Regina thinking when she gave him that persona?" he asked, tossing his pajama bottoms in the hamper and pulling a fresh suit out of the closet.

          "He was in a coma for twenty-eight years. I don't think she was thinking at all. I mean, how was she to know he would even wake up at all? Something else for which the prince owes his grandson. It was his idea to have Mary Margaret read to him in the hospital, after all, which prompted Charming to come back to us. Regina must have been livid," Belle smiled, dropping her brush on the dresser and kissing her husband's cheek as she passed him on the way to the door. "Don't be long, Rum. I'm starving."

          The doorbell rang for the fourth time just as Belle reached the foyer and recognized a familiar silhouette on the other side of the stained glass which adorned the front door. She received a hug from Henry and Paige -or rather Grace - as she opened the door to admit Jefferson and Emma. Grace had tears in her eyes as she looked up at Belle.

          Belle hadn't yet seen Grace since the curse had been broken and tears sparkled in the girl's eyes. "Aunt Belle," she cried, burying her face against Belle's shoulder.

          "I know, sweet girl, I know. We have so much to talk about," Belle crooned, wrapping her arm around Grace's shoulders and stroking her long ginger locks. "Don't cry, darling."

          Jefferson ushered Emma and Henry into the kitchen to give his daughter some privacy to reunite with her surrogate aunt. "I missed you so much, Aunt Belle. When you disappeared, and Uncle Rum couldn't find you …" she cried, her voice choking on a sob. "He was so lost without you and Papa didn't know what to do for him and we all needed you and …"

          "It's alright, darling. I'm here now and we all have a second chance to have our happily ever after," Belle soothed. She cradled Grace's face in her palms and rubbed her nose against hers in a fond gesture of affection. "And even though you didn't remember our life in the Enchanted Forest, you had a wonderful life here in Storybrooke with your papa."

          "And Uncle Ni-Rum, too," she agreed happily. She kissed Belle's cheek and skipped off to the kitchen, waving at Gold as he appeared at the top of the stairs.

          Jefferson was making tea and Grace was setting out cups and the sugar bowl, milk pitcher and wedges of lemon on the table. Emma was sitting with Henry seemingly arguing about Regina. "We can't keep her locked up," the boy insisted.

          "We can, and we will," she insisted wearily, leaning back in her chair and raking a frustrated hand through her hair. "Even if Gold can somehow bind her magic, there's no guarantee she won't find some way to get her power back."

          Belle lowered herself into a chair and quirked a brow at their savior. "Are you doubting Rumpelstiltskin's power?" she asked. Emma shifted guiltily and looked away. "Yes, I suppose you are. Perhaps it's better you didn't know him in our realm. He was a difficult man," she sighed with a wistful smile, remembering all too well the trying times they'd had in the beginning of their relationship. It took her a while to find the man behind the mage.

          Emma was quick to reassure. "It's not like I don't believe you, I just don't trust him. Especially after he stole the potion that was supposed to save Henry."

          "Rum had his reasons for doing that, Emma. Very good reasons. And he was confident you didn't need the potion. You just needed to believe in yourself and have faith you would break the curse. True love doesn't always have to be between you and the man you love. What greater love could there be than a mother and her child?"

          Jefferson poured the tea and let his gaze rest on his daughter. "Or any parent and their child," he added softly. "But that's not why we're here."

          Gold stepped into the kitchen and accepted a cup of tea from the hatter, eyeing Emma over the rim of his cup. "Indeed not. So what new tragedy has befallen the town in the few short hours since Regina and Rheul Ghorm have been imprisoned?"

          Belle caught the guarded look which crossed Emma's face and turned quickly to Grace. "Sweetie, that new shipment of books we ordered came in yesterday. Why don't you and Henry go into the library and see if there's anything you'd like to take home with you," she suggested. Grace set her tea cup down and grabbed Henry's hand, pulling him along behind her despite his protests. Henry hated it when he wasn't allowed to listen in to information which might be pertinent to Operation Cobra.

          Emma waited until she heard the door to the library shut behind the children before answering. "Henry doesn't think we should lock Regina away since she won't be regaining her magic. Have you even started on the binding potion?" she asked irritably.

          Gold looked affronted by her tone and he narrowed his eyes on her. "I have, Miss Swan. And I agree with Henry. Regina should be able to resume her life here in Storybrooke as if nothing had happened. Whether or not the citizens of our fair town allow it is another story. But I think watching her flounder through life friendless, magicless and loveless is payment enough for what she's put Belle through."

          Emma's mouth nearly hit the table. "What?"

          "What Rumpel is trying to say is … it would hurt Henry too much for us to harm Regina and he has a soft spot for your son he doesn't want to admit to," Belle said simply. Gold wrinkled his nose at Belle, but refused to answer.

          Jefferson snorted. "It's not that she doesn't deserve to be punished."

          "I'm more concerned about Mother Superior," Emma said, leveling Gold with a piercing stare. "What have you decided about her? I know you promised not to kill her, but she can't stay locked up in the mines either."

          "That's up to you, Miss Swan," Gold leveled her with a pointed stare, his voice quiet in the sudden stillness of the homey kitchen. "Will you be able to fulfill your part and have her transported to her new home?"

          Emma eyed him warily. She'd never trusted Nicholas Gold - shifty pawn broker - and now she trusted Rumpelstiltskin - powerful and sinister sorcerer - even less, no matter how much Belle and Jefferson tried to convince her otherwise. "I don't want to see anyone get hurt, Gold," she insisted, refusing to meet his gaze. Instead she stared down into the cold contents of her cup as she waited for his answer.

          Gold set his cup down on the counter so hard, she was certain it would shatter as he turned to glare at her, his deep brown eyes nearly black with his barely concealed rage. "Like she hurt me when she stole my wife from me? Like she hurt my Belle when she held her captive for nearly a year, forcing her to watch every despicable deed I'd ever committed through a magic mirror as she tried to turn her against me? Like she hurt the both of us by keeping us apart?" he asked, his deep voice shaking with emotion. He had to swallow, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat as the painful memories of that time flooded his mind. "Nearly a year of loneliness and deep despair, Miss Swan. Nearly a year I couldn't touch her, gaze upon her beauty, or bask in the warmth of her smile. For that … that loathsome bitch deserves the tortures of the damned."

          Gold’s gaze flitted to his wife and he could see unshed tears glistening on her lashes from his heartfelt speech. She rose from her chair and moved to his side, curling her arms around his waist and letting him draw her into his embrace. "It's alright, darling," she whispered so only he could hear her words. "I'm here with you now. Don't let the darkness in to consume you. I love you." She cupped his cheek in her hand and made him meet her teary gaze. "I _love_ you, Rum."

          He pressed his brow to Belle's and simply held onto her, trying to infuse her with all the love he held for her in his heart, through their bond. Emma shared a look with Jefferson, feeling uncomfortable to see Gold so vulnerable. Favor or not, there was no way she couldn't help them. They'd suffered more than any two people should ever have to suffer and it was her innate desire to help others which made up her mind.

          She wouldn't even have to compromise her principles to help them. They were sending the woman away from Storybrooke to a safe little convent, miles away from everything she knew, somewhere she'd be unable to hurt them any longer. This was a huge step for Rumpelstiltskin when he could just as easily turn her to dust. "Tell me what you want me to do."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thanks so much for sticking with me and I really hope you all enjoyed the update. xoxoxo


	54. Chapter 54

          Regina backed away from the bars of the great stone cell, her heart racing and her breath hitching in trepidation as Rumpelstiltskin slithered closer. She could see his power ripple beneath his skin as if it were on display to taunt her. She could see the same in his little wife, his former maid and her former chess piece. If she'd only hidden the little princess better, away from prying eyes and orderlies who knew entirely too much, she would still have Belle to use as her trump card.

          Gold would be the one caged once more in the mines and she'd have everything she'd ever wanted within her grasp. Yet, here she was, powerless and at his mercy because she was out of bargaining chips. She still didn't know how it had all fallen apart. The one thing she knew with absolute certainty, the major blow to her precious ego, was it was all his fault. He'd groomed her into what she had become until she had been ready to cast his curse. As soon as she'd fulfilled the purpose he'd made her for, she had been no longer necessary. She should've killed him when she had the opportunity.

          Gold paused several feet from the bars and leaned heavily on his cane, his free arm wound around Belle's waist to hold her closely at his side. "Well, dearie, are you ready to negotiate?" he asked Regina, his voice dry, his tone bored. Yes, he was making it clear just how tedious he thought it was having to deal with the queen.

          "I don't know, Rumpel. What did you have in mind?" she asked, keeping her tone light so as not to show she was nearly quaking in fear. She was completely at his mercy, not a feeling she enjoyed in the least.

          "Miss Swan, would you join us please?" Gold called over his shoulder towards the tunnel entrance. "You see, your majesty, it's not me you have to negotiate with this time, but our lovely savior," he taunted, his lips turning up on one side in a wolfish grin, clearly enjoying himself.

          "It doesn't matter what kind of deal I could strike with Emma. You'll never let me out of here for keeping Belle from you." Regina turned her back on the three of them and sat down in the shadows on a fresh pile of straw, leaving them in the cold silence.

          Emma raised a brow at Gold and took the vial of shimmering magenta potion from his outstretched hand, taking a hesitant step towards the bars. "Regina, I know you think I'm enjoying this. You think I love having Henry all to myself, being his only mother, spending all my time with him …"

          "Of course, you do, Miss Swan. And now you can visit me in my cell on a daily basis and tell me just how much he doesn't need me in his life," Regina snapped angrily. "Thank you, but I'll pass."

          Emma bit down on her tongue - hard - and reminded herself she was doing this for her son, for his happiness. It didn't matter how much she loathed the woman she had to share him with. "Drink the potion, Regina. Let us bind your powers and we'll let you out. The same deal we discussed - before you decided to kill me - will still stand."

          Regina's brow creased as she regarded Emma in surprise, her dark brown eyes searching her face for any sign of trickery. "You expect me to believe you'll honor an agreement I never intended to keep? You still expect me to share my son with you? Do you take me for a fool?" she asked, rising and planting her hands on her hips in defiance.

          Emma narrowed her eyes on Gold and ground her teeth together. "I told you this was never going to work."

          "Regina, you're not hurting anyone but Henry. If you truly love him as much as you say you do, you'll drink the potion, so you can be with him," Belle said gently.

          She was the last person in the world who should offer comfort to the queen, the same woman who had tried to destroy her relationship with her true love, the same woman who had kept her locked away for three decades, but that was Belle. Her innate goodness wouldn't allow her to keep the woman from her child, even though said child would have to be shared with another. It was one of the many things her husband treasured about his wife. Besides, the damage Regina had caused them was minimal compared to Blue's machinations.

          "This is your choice, dear," Gold snapped, growing bored with his former pupil and her drama. "You can either stay down here in this lovely cell, or you let me bind your powers and resume your life … with your child. You have my word, Regina."

          And she could see the truth of his words in the set of his jaw and the depths of his eyes. It would be a deal with him as well as with Emma and no matter how easy it might be for Emma to break her word; Gold wouldn't break his. His word was his bond, his deals unbreakable without the direst of consequences.

          Regina slipped her hand through the bars and took the potion from Emma. Her fingers closed around the vial, the weight of her choice resting in the palm of her hand. She closed her eyes and conjured Henry's precious face to her mind's eye. He'd love her again if she could be a better person, one not filled with hate and lust for revenge. Could she give up her thirst for vengeance for her son? It would be giving up her lost love as well. How could she give up on her Daniel? It would be easier to tear her own heart out, but she couldn't give Henry up either. It was her choice. She could hold onto her quest for vengeance and remain in the cell or she could embrace a new life for the sake of her child.

          She drank the potion down in one swallow, the icy liquid flowing smoothly and easily down her throat and casting her entire body in a faint glow before disappearing altogether. "Did it work?"

          Gold snorted. "What do you think, dearie?" He linked his hand with Belle's and together they lifted their other hand to the magical barrier which would open the cell, Gold chanting the spell softly under his breath.

          Regina took a hesitant step forward over the threshold of the cell to stand before them. Emma lowered her eyes and gestured to the mouth of the tunnel. "Henry's waiting for you in the main tunnel. He wants to go home with you tonight," she said with a quirk of her lips when Regina beamed happily at her.

          She didn't say thank you, but moved swiftly towards the tunnel opening in her haste to reunite with her son. Belle squeezed Emma's hand and smiled. "I know that was hard for you, but you're doing the right thing for Henry. Now he has two mothers to dote on him."

          "You think she'll really change for his sake?"

          "You did, Miss Swan," Gold smiled softly. "Only time will tell as to whether or not she can as well. She will have to be watched closely, but she could surprise us all."

 _It's my own fault she is what she is,_  he thought bitterly.

          Belle's answering mental voice swiftly brushed his mind.  _Stop feeling guilty, Rum. It wasn't your fault alone and I won't have you wallowing in guilt and self-recriminations._

_If I hadn't groomed her to cast the curse …_

_To find our boy …  
          Belle …_

_I love you, my beast, my spinner, my love. That will never change, Rumpel. Stay in the light with me, darling._

          He nodded and gently squeezed her hand, knowing the night wasn't over by any means. He could feel her love flowing through their bond like a warm caress and he took comfort from it. Later he would lie awake in the wee hours of the morning, Belle nestled safely in his arms, and think about how he could have done things differently. His thoughts and regrets of the past would plague him, and Belle would be there to ease away his fears as only she could, but right now, Emma was watching them closely, her gaze wary and penetrating as she tried to figure out the silent communication between the couple.

          Gold turned his scathing glare on Rheul Ghorm and squared his shoulders, trying his best not to let the satisfaction show on his face, utmost pleasure the woman would finally get her comeuppance at his hands. The spell he'd cast on her was different from Regina's. Blue was able to move and see and hear, but he'd robbed her of her voice. She wouldn't be allowed to poison Emma against him until the last moment. And when the truth was finally revealed to their savior, it would be too late and nothing the fairy said would matter. Her pleas would fall on deaf ears and he and Belle would be free.

          "Bring her." He turned on his heel, Belle's hand clasped firmly in his, and his cane thumping rhythmically on the dirt covered stones under his feet as he made his way to the tunnel entrance. It was time. At long last, it was time.

 

*.*.*

 

          Belle leaned wearily against the car as her husband paced back and forth on the pavement before her. They were parked on the side of the road, the sign reading  _Welcome to Storybrooke_  and a bright orange stripe on the paved road, marking the town line for all to see. Soon, this would all be behind them and they'd be making plans to cross that line to find their son. Whether he could accept her or not, Belle would always think of Baelfire as hers because he was a part of Rumpel, and she couldn't wait to finally meet him and see him reunited with his father.

          Gold was grumbling under his breath as he paced, antsy as he waited for Emma to arrive with Blue.

          "Rumpel, please," she beseeched him, holding out her hand to him to draw him to her side. "Emma will be here shortly. She was only going to stop and gather Blue's things to take with them."

          "What if she let her escape? What if the other fairies revolted and stole her back? What if …"

          His words trailed off as headlights illuminated the road behind them. Two vehicles. He stepped to Belle's side and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her protectively against his side. Emma stopped her yellow bug on the opposite side of the road - unworried anyone would cross the town line coming  _into_  Storybrooke - and got out, opening the door for Blue to do the same.

          Charming stopped his truck behind his daughter's car and helped Snow out. They all met in the center of the road, Charming glaring at Gold and Snow looking as if she were about to cry.

          "Why do they have to be here?" he asked Belle in a long-suffering tone from the corner of his mouth, not really expecting her to answer.

          "Gold, I don't care what you think she's done, she is a part of our world and I think it would be foolhardy to send her out into this world to fend for herself among people she doesn't know and who might harm her for the knowledge she possesses," Charming said, finishing his spiel before pausing to catch his breath.

          Gold huffed in offense. "That was rather articulate even for you, dearie. However, the fact remains that she has incurred my wrath and she  _will_ be punished for it. Would you rather I kill her? Because that is the only other alternative," he snarled, his dark eyes flashing with menace.

          Snow clasped her hands in front of her, her eyes sad and forlorn. "Rumpelstiltskin, please. I beg you to reconsider. No one even knows what will happen if she tries to cross the town line. It could kill her."

          Gold shrugged. "If you like, we could test the theory on your husband before we attempt to send her across." Protests erupted all around and he had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop the giggle burbling from his throat. "Enough. Say your goodbyes."

          With a wave of his hand, he released the spell keeping Blue silent. But the fairy didn't have words of parting for Snow. Her eyes were locked on Belle, a hint of madness in their depths. She cocked her head to the side as if concentrating on what she wanted to say. He could feel his beloved shift uneasily next to him and press closer into his side. "You are a foolish and stubborn girl, Belle of the Marchlands."

          Belle stiffened in affront. "That's Belle of the Dark Castle, as well you know," she hissed. She pressed her hand to her husband's chest to stop him from silencing her once more.  _Let her speak. In moments, she will be gone._  He subsided with a nod.

          "I tried to help you, to make you see the mistake you'd made by aligning yourself with evil, but you just wouldn't listen. I showed you every vile offense he'd ever committed and yet you still wouldn't see. Even the pain I inflicted on you didn't seem to faze you. I …"

          "What. Pain?" he ground out through clenched teeth, a low growl beginning to rise in his chest as the red haze of fury overtook his vision.

          "You didn't tell him," Blue sing-songed in her tiny girlish voice. "You didn't tell him I tried to beat it out of you, did you? A lie of omission is still a lie, little girl."

          Charming pushed Snow behind him and backed up several steps. Even he could feel the magic permeate the air as Gold's anger rose, fueled by the fairy's callous words. Belle's eyes widened in alarm. She could sense the darkness encroaching through the bond and could almost hear the beast begin to roar. Her spinner was fighting a losing battle against the Dark One and she could taste fear, hot and acrid on her tongue.

          "She didn't tell you," she laughed in the face of the pain spreading across his visage. "She didn't tell you how I whipped her and branded her with runes and flayed the flesh off her back all in the attempt to cleanse her of your evil. But the damage had already been done. You made her immortal and everything I tried to do healed over quickly, giving me another chance each and every day. She wouldn't break. Why wouldn't she break? What magics did you use to bewitch her so thoroughly?" she asked Gold, the maniacal gleam of madness overwhelming in her wide-eyed gaze.

          He stared at her, dumbfounded, paralyzed with the rage boiling hot and fetid in his blood. Belle let go of him as magic crackled and sparked at his fingertips, unable to connect with him either verbally or through their bond when he was like this. But it was more than rage cutting him off from her. It was _pain._ It was fear and hate and a sense of helplessness. The same helplessness he'd felt when he couldn’t find her, all hope gone from his world.

          Gold turned to face Blue, but Belle ran around and placed herself between them, planting her hands in the center of his chest and pleading with him. "Don't, Rumpel, please. Let her go. Let Emma take her and go."

          "She hurt you! She tortured you! All out of some misguided notion that you were evil just because you fell in love with me!" he railed, his voice echoing against the forest on either side of the road. "If Regina hadn't cast the curse, you would still be her prisoner. How can you expect me to let that stand?!"

          "Because you're better than her. There's so much good in you. You don't let anyone see it, but there is, Rum. Don't let killing her destroy what is left of your soul. Please," she cried, cupping his face in her hands and pressing her brow to his. "Don't give in to your hate."

          She could feel his heart slow and his breathing return to normal as the tension drained out of him under the force of her power over him. If she made it a command, he would have no choice but to obey, but because she loved him so much, she gave him free will to make his own decision and she was thankful he chose wisely. But Rheul Ghorm wouldn't be deterred.

          "I'll bet you didn't even tell him about how I broke your wrists trying to remove the cuffs he forced on you. He'll never love you. Evil isn't capable of love …"

          Without a conscious thought - which was sure to frighten her when she had time to think about it - Belle summoned her blue light into her right palm and sent it right into the fairy's chest, blasting her back through the air to land in a heap on the other side of the orange line.

          In all the time she'd learned magic under Rumpelstiltskin's tutelage she'd never lifted her hand in anger, never purposefully sought to do harm to another. Tears welled in her eyes as she stared down at her hand in horror. She'd done the very thing she'd warned Rumpel against, the thing which terrified her to the very marrow of her bones … she'd let the darkness gain control and she'd hurt someone with her magic.

          "Belle, stop. You didn't hurt her, sweetheart," Gold assured her, gathering her shaking form into his arms. "You merely stunned her." He was certain it would devastate her if she'd brought harm to another, even if it was an evil fairy.

          Rheul Ghorm groaned as Emma moved hurriedly to her side to help her to her feet. "Are you okay?"

          "What happened?"

          "Um … what do you remember?" Emma asked, checking her over for injuries. "You seemed to have hit your head pretty hard."

          "The last thing I remember was being at the convent packing to leave for my new assignment at St. Rose's in Seattle," Mother Superior said groggily.

          Emma shared a dazed look with Gold, trying to figure out what the hell had just happened. "Does … uh … does the name Rheul Ghorm mean anything to you, Mother Superior?"

          "No, should it?"

          Belle worried her lip between her teeth to still her trembling and pressed her face against her husband's shoulder. Emma led the former fairy to the yellow bug parked next to the town line and helped her into the front seat before turning to her parents. "Well, at least we know what happens when you cross the town line. While I take Mother Superior to the bus station, I think it would be a good idea to get the word out for the people to stay the hell away from the line if they want to retain their memories of our realm."

          "I think that's an excellent idea," Snow said, overwrought by the events of the evening and the revelations she'd been confronted with. "Oh, and Emma, don't forget I expect you to come to dinner tomorrow night with your father and I … and do bring Jefferson with you, dear."

          Emma cringed as she watched her parents climb into the truck and turn to head back into town. A family dinner with her parents and her boyfriend was just not what she needed right now. She waved at Belle and Gold before getting into her own car and leaving Storybrooke behind.

 

*.*.*

 

          Gold was silent on the drive back to the pink Victorian. Belle did nothing by word or deed to draw his attention away from his dark thoughts. She could only assume they were dark. He'd severed their open link through their bond, closing himself off from her, and to say it made her anxious would not be a great exaggeration. Now that he'd had time to think about it, he had to be angry with her.

          She'd kept the details of her imprisonment from him and disregarded the vow she'd made to him. It was by her own insistence for complete honesty she'd gone against to protect him. Why should he have to know how she’d suffered while the captive of a sadistic fairy? He was just going to blame himself and she didn't want to be responsible for any more regrets which would keep him at his spinning wheel for days at a time while he sought relief in forgetfulness.

          Belle reached out and laid her hand atop his where it rested on the armrest between them and he flinched away from her, the muscle twitching in his jaw as he ground his teeth together. She lowered her eyes to her lap and worried her lip, tears springing to her eyes at his rejection. Coldness swept over her and she couldn't help but wonder how she was ever going to fix what she'd broken between them.

          He pulled the car into the driveway and opened the door, his haste to be away from her opening a chasm of despair in her chest as she watched him limp towards the house and unlock the door. He had already locked himself in his study when she entered the house and hung up her coat.

          Her stomach growled angrily at her when she stepped into the kitchen. She set the tea kettle on the stove to boil water for tea and opened the refrigerator to gather ingredients for sandwiches. It was doubtful she'd be able to coax him into eating something in his present mood, and even though she didn't feel like eating, she had to think of their little one nestled beneath her breaking heart.

          The sound of shattering glass reached her ears, causing the sandwich meat to drop to the counter as she whirled in the direction of the study. He was hurting and locked away from her, and there was nothing she could think of to ease his pain. Somehow, the words  _I'm sorry_ , just didn't seem to be enough.

          Belle sat down to eat the ham and cheese sandwich she'd fixed, the flavorful snack tasting like sawdust in her mouth as she catalogued each and every item shattering behind the locked study door. Her stomach roiled viciously, threatening to expel the food she'd just eaten due to the angst coiling low in her belly. She couldn't let him wallow in his self-pity.

          She crossed the hall and knocked softly on the door after several minutes of silence, hoping his temper tantrum had reached its end.

          "Rumpel?" she called softly through the door, receiving no answer. "Rumpelstiltskin, please let me in."

          "Go to bed, Belle. We'll talk in the morning," he replied, his voice heavily accented, which meant he'd either been drinking, crying or both.

          She knew she could unlock the door with a mere flick of her wrist, but she would much prefer him to willingly let her in. The pain so evident in his voice was like a knife to her heart and she wouldn't be able to leave him until they'd resolved this between them. She'd walk through fire for him. She wasn't about to let a misunderstanding drive a wedge between them.

          "Rum, please. Please let me in so we can talk about this." Still no answer. "Rumpelstiltskin, I'm not going to continue trying to speak to you through a door. Now either open this door or I will. But either way I'm coming in," she threatened.

          The door opened with a violent whoosh and slammed into the wall, forcing a startled gasp from her lips, her hand rising to cover her heart to still its thunderous tempo. The room was dark aside from the light from the fireplace and it took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the lack of light in the room. It was in a shambles, glass strewn across the floor, knick-knacks and treasures smashed and destroyed. The curtains covering the windows hung on broken rods and pages had been torn from the numerous law books littering the floor. With a flourish of her hand, she set the room to rights, earning a dark scowl from her husband.

          He was sitting at his desk, his head propped in his hands, his elbows resting on the wood finish of the desk. He'd removed his jacket and tie, the gold silk lying next to a picture of them on the desk next to a lamp. He looked a wreck, his hair falling over his brow and the tracks of tears leaving a trail over his cheeks. He didn't acknowledge her presence in his domain, keeping his head down. When he did lift it, it was only to toss back the contents of the glass at his elbow, swallowing down the amber liquid.

          "Rumpel," she said, her voice barely a whisper as she moved around the desk and laid her hand on his shoulder. "Rum, please look at me," she pleaded when he jerked away from her touch. "Don't shut me out."

          "Why?" he asked, his voice breaking on the single word. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Why did you keep this from me, Belle? Why did you think I wouldn't want to know what you'd been through?" he asked, bitterness and pain creeping into his tone. "You're my wife! I deserved to know! My _right!”_

          "I'm sorry. I was trying to protect you."

          "Protect me? It's not your place to protect me, Belle," he raged, rising so swiftly to his feet, the desk chair he'd been occupying slamming into the wall behind him. He towered over her, his anger wrapping around her like a vise. "You are mine. Mine to love, mine to cherish, mine. To. Protect!" he snarled through clenched teeth.

          The fumes from the scotch he'd consumed assailed her nose and she had to force herself to stand her ground. "And you are mine. This marriage is  _not_  one-sided, Rumpelstiltskin. I should be able to protect you in return."

          Belle pulled the cardigan from her shoulders and tossed it across his desk, causing him to step back in surprise. She then reached behind her for the zipper at her back, unfastening her dress and letting it slide from her body to pool about her feet, leaving her in only her lacy camisole and panties. She gave him her back, gathering her unbound hair in her hands and pulled it over her shoulder to show him her unblemished skin. "Look. Not a single scar mars my back. No lash marks, no burns, no damage. Touch me, Rum," she said, her tone making it a command he was forced to obey so she could drive her point home.

          Gold splayed his hands against the smooth skin covering her shoulder blades and a whimper escaped his lips as he imagined the pain she must have suffered. He took her upper arms in a gentle grip, his brow falling to rest against her shoulder, his tears soaking into the hair at her nape. "I failed you."

          "You did not fail me."

          "I did, Belle. I failed in my duty to protect you," he wept against her shoulder, his arms slipping around her to rest his hands on her swollen belly. "Who's to say it won't happen again? Only this time I have so much more to lose."

          Belle turned in his arms and carded her hand through his hair, her nails scratching lightly against his nape in an effort to soothe him, her other hand kneading his lower back. "You didn't fail me, Rum. You never gave up searching for me. You called in more favors than were necessary in your efforts to find me only to come up against one obstacle after another. It wasn't your fault, love." She tugged at the ends of his hair until he lifted his head from her shoulder and met her gaze. "I love you," she whispered, drawing up on her toes to press her lips to his.

          He sighed into her mouth as she deepened the kiss, her tongue darting between his parted lips to stroke his own and she could feel the tension begin to ease from his shoulders. "And I love you, my Belle," he gasped as the breath hitched in his chest, his lips trailing along her jaw and up to her ear to gently nip the lobe, at the same time opening himself to her so she could feel him through their bond. Heat and desire flooded her senses as he did, but most of all she could feel his love for her.

          "You forgive me, Rum?" she asked, the pulse point beneath his wandering lips beating frantically.

          "There's nothing to forgive. My mistakes in this relationship far outweigh the few you've made. If you could forgive the things I've done …" His voice trailed off as her fingers worked furiously at the buttons on his shirt, her hands finally gaining access to the bare skin of his chest and blanking his mind from everything except the delicious lust she had awakened with her touch.

          Belle smiled as she pressed her lips to that spot beneath his ear making him shiver in her arms, feeling the familiar sensation of weightlessness as he transported them to their bedroom in a wisp of violet smoke.

          There would be no spinning for him tonight … no self-pity, nor regrets and no recriminations. She'd taught him long ago there was no room in their bed for such things, only their love. Tonight, she would show him just how much she loved him, how much she wanted him and how much she truly needed him. It was past time they got started on their happily ever after and she wouldn't allow it to be put off for another moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hope you all enjoyed the update. Love you all so much. Sorry for the absence of smut. Didn't want to delay this chapter trying to get it right. Hope you aren't disappointed too much. Lol. Xoxoxo.


	55. Chapter 55

          Four weeks until her due date found Belle standing in front of the full-length mirror lamenting over the state of her waistline. "How can you stand to look at me, Rumpel?" she asked, wrapping her arms around her enormous belly and trying to find an angle where she could glimpse her feet at the same time.

          Gold rolled his eyes as he pulled his head out from under the pillow and scrubbed a hand over his face to rid himself of the last remnants of sleep. His lips curled up in a wicked grin as he took in the sight of his lovely and very pregnant wife. She must have just gotten out of the shower, her hair still damp and gleaming in the low light of their bedroom, her alabaster skin shining with the healthy glow of her pregnancy as she stood completely naked before the mirror.

          "I quite enjoy looking at you, my darling Belle." He shoved the blankets aside and rose to stand behind her, wrapping his arms around her from behind and resting his hands on her belly. The gentle rolling movement of his child beneath his love's skin never ceased to bring a beaming smile to his face. "You have never been more beautiful than you are now."

          Belle turned her head to meet the gentle press of his lips upon her own. "I look like I swallowed a bus, Rumpel, but it's very sweet that you think I'm still beautiful."

          "Love you," he said, stifling a yawn and grabbing his cane to go downstairs and start breakfast.

          "Love you more, Rum," she answered automatically, meeting his gaze in the mirror before disappearing into their walk-in closet to find something to wear.

          The last month since the curse had been broken hadn't been an easy one. Everyone who had loathed and despised her husband before, remembered the fear they'd experienced at the mere mention of his name in their former realm and now the tentative friendships she'd made with people in town were crumbling about her feet. That didn't endear the populace to her husband at all. Rent had been raised and just because the curse was broken, didn't mean they didn't have to pay. He'd evicted two hapless tenants the week before when they couldn't meet the new rate.

          After the way they'd sneered at Belle and whispered unflattering comments behind their hands where Gold could hear them, they were extremely fortunate to still be walking around on two legs instead of slithering along on a slime trail on their bellies. Gold was once again in his element. He lived for the fear he could instill in others. It made him feel powerful and if it made him happy, Belle wouldn't begrudge him that small concession by making him be nice to small-minded people.

          Belle tried not to let the whispers bother her. She'd grown up having people think she was odd. The odd little princess who would rather have the company of her books than members of her peerage. The odd little girl who’d had her head in the clouds dreaming of far off places, sword fights to rescue the fair maiden and princes in disguise had always been looked down upon, so this really wasn't anything new.

          Now, however, people called her a gold-digger who had married the town monster for his money. Others remembered stories from their realm about how she'd been his captive and bewitched to fall in love with the beast. Very few really knew the truth behind the reasons she'd chosen to be with him, and she tried not to let the whispers bother her.

          No one ever saw the man behind the monster who wore a cold mask of disdain and indifference. In their home, no one ever saw the man who doted on his wife and lived for her happiness, the man who frequently surprised her with breakfast in bed, the man who rubbed her back at the end of the day with his soothing touch, the man who stared at her as if he couldn't believe he'd ever be worthy to have her love and the man who counted the days until their child would arrive. Only a few were even able to catch a small glimpse of her spinner.

          They knew who their real friends were and didn't need anyone else. Gold was even warming up to Charming, though he'd never admit it under threat of being impaled upon his dagger. But he did enjoy antagonizing Charming and making him look a bit foolish. Thankfully, Charming was getting better at fending off Gold's razor-sharp wordplay and took it all good naturedly.

          Belle had a feeling Snow had laid down the law that Charming was not to make an enemy of Rumpelstiltskin and ruin her own friendship with Belle. But with Snow and Emma busy with wedding plans, they weren't quite as able to curtail the sarcasm as well as they'd like. Belle found it all quite amusing.

          Emma had surprised everyone by accepting Jefferson's marriage proposal, thinking it strange their savior, daughter of their sovereigns, would marry someone so odd as the man they'd all dubbed the Mad Hatter. But she loved him. He'd crept in and stolen her heart and given her a home and family and they wanted to make it official.

          Charming had not been at all happy about the news. He was still bitter he'd missed out on watching his little girl grow up, and now she was starting a family of her own. Snow had helped him come around, making him see Jefferson was the same man who had befriended him after he'd awoken from his coma and made him feel welcome in their circle of friends. If Jefferson could bring their daughter and grandson happiness, who was he to deny them?

          Regina hadn't changed much in the past month. She still hated Snow with a flaming passion, but she tried to keep her feelings to herself around Emma and Henry. She didn't want to give Emma any excuse to deny her joint custody with her son. They'd come to a new arrangement, and now she had him all to herself every other week. Everyone seemed to be happy with the new arrangement and Henry was pleased his two mothers were making an effort to get along.

          Regina had somehow been able to retain her position as mayor and Belle suspected it was because no one else wanted the job. People were content to let her run their town as she had before as long as she kept her nose out of their personal business. Due to her history with the queen, Belle wasn't inclined to have Regina as her new best friend, but she had come to be more tolerant in the queen's quest to be a better person for Henry.

          Belle felt a wisp of magic tingle up her spine and a gentle nudge at the back of her mind, feeling her husband asking for permission to invade her thoughts. Sometimes it was much easier to indulge in this perk of their bond than simply shouting up the stairs like an uncouth youth. She opened herself easily and felt his lilting voice caress her mind.

_Breakfast is ready, sweetheart._

_I can't decide what to wear. Everything I own makes me look huge, and I'm uncomfortable in my own skin, much less clothes_ , she answered easily, her mental voice carrying the hint of a whine.

_Since today is your baby shower, why don't you wear the pink dress I bought you last week?_

_I could just as easily wear the blue one._

_We're having a girl, my darling. Wear the pink._

_Stubborn man. I'll be down in a moment._  She could feel the whisper of a kiss brush her cheek as she pulled the pink dress from the hanger. He was still convinced they were having a girl and she'd gotten to the point where it was just ridiculous to argue with him anymore. Since the curse had broken, he had been after her to let him use his magic to  _examine_  the baby. But the thought of him invading her womb with magic made her just a bit nervous even though he'd assured her it wouldn't harm their child. He was just like any expectant father, wanting to bond with their child on a deeper level and she really was being silly for not allowing it.

          She ran the brush through her hair and smiled at her reflection, at the sleeveless bodice with its square neckline and simple lines. She retrieved a pair of simple nude flats and left the bedroom, her mind made up. If she was having a baby shower, why couldn't Rumpelstiltskin have a peek in her belly? Carefully, she traversed the stairs and entered the kitchen, setting her shoes near the kitchen doorway for later.

          "Absolutely breathtaking," he breathed as he turned to face her, taking her in. She blushed prettily at the compliment and sat heavily on her chair at the table.

          "Hardly, Rumpel, but thank you," she said, taking a sip from her tea cup and eyeing the plate of eggs, bacon and chocolate chip muffins he set before her. He hadn't been down in the kitchen more than twenty minutes, so he must've had a little magical help this morning, but she kept her opinion to herself. She enjoyed cheating at meals as well now that they had their magic back. "Are you going to be at the shop all day?"

          Gold knew she didn't like him to open up the shop on Saturdays, feeling the weekend should be a time to spend with family … her in particular. "Just for a while this morning. I want to spend the afternoon working on the potion, so I will be here when you return from your party."

          Belle studied him closely, noting the dark circles and tight lines around his eyes. He had been working so fervently to brew a potion which would let him cross the town line without losing his memories, so they would be able to leave to search for Baelfire. He was losing sleep, he wasn't eating properly, and it was taking its toll. The most aggravating aspect of it was he refused to let her help him. He insisted she rest instead of expending undue energy to assist him.

          "You work too hard."

          "But it will be worth it," he said, warming her with his smile. "I won't be too busy this morning at the shop. I just need to go over the books. I've been neglecting them since …"

          "… since you've been working on our town line dilemma. I know, love." She pushed her empty plate aside and scooted her chair back away from the table. Fighting back her nervous trepidation, she met his gaze, her fingers twisting together in her lap. "Um … Rum? Since you won't be coming with me to the shower, I … uh … I want to give you something. A gift."

          He set his tea cup down, his brow knitted together in a puzzled frown. "Sweetheart, you don't have to give me anything." He took her hands in his and kissed her fingertips, worrying slightly over her agitation. His brave, confident wife never let her nerves get the better of her and he could only wonder how serious this was to have her behaving so. "All I need is you, my Belle."

          "I know, but there is something you've wanted for a while now and I've been silly not wanting to let you have it. Well, I've changed my mind," she replied, worrying her lower lip and watching the hope bloom on his face. The breath left him in a whoosh when he finally realized what she was saying.

          "You mean …"

          Belle unclasped their hands and pulled them forward to lay gently against the mound of her belly. "I do. I want you to." She couldn't remember the last time, if ever, that she'd seen such a look of pure joy on her husband's face.

          "You're certain?" he asked, nodding excitedly.

          She could already feel the magic settling in his fingertips, ready to send it curling throughout her abdomen. "Yes, I'm sure." She sat back in the chair and tried to get comfortable, uncertain of how long it would take. She had to bite down on her lip to stop herself from giggling. The tendrils of magic flowing through her felt as though he were tickling her from the inside.

          Belle was mesmerized by the look of sheer happiness on his face as he moved his hands gently over her abdomen, his smile widening as their child moved beneath his hands. "Oh, Belle …" he breathed, his voice thick with emotion. "She's so perfect, and healthy, and _so_ beautiful." A tear escaped the corner of his closed eyes and Belle reached up to brush it away. "Just like her mama."

          Gold withdrew his hands and cradled her face in his palms, molding his lips to hers for a long moment. He poured every ounce of love his possessed into the gesture before breaking the kiss and pressing his brow to hers, a whispered  _thank you_ , ghosting across his lips.

          "I just wanted you to have something special today, Rumpel."

          "There is nothing more special or precious in my life at this moment than my girls."

          "A girl. You just had to be right. It wouldn't do for the great Rumpelstiltskin to be wrong just this once," she mused, a wry grin toying at her lips.

          "I know you wanted a son, Belle. Are you very disappointed?" he asked worriedly as though the blame would be placed on his shoulders.

          "Of course not, darling. I would be happy with either, but you are going to spoil her so rotten. You will be wrapped around her little finger and I won't be able to do anything with either of you," she teased, her smile blinding in its brilliance.

          "Indeed."

 

*.*.*

 

          Jefferson knocked on the bathroom door for the fourth time in the last hour. "Rabbit, you're going to be late if you don't come out of there," he called through the wooden barrier. Emma had gone in there to take a shower and go about her morning routine before dressing for the baby shower, and now she refused to come out. "Have I done something to upset you?" he asked, staring at the door as if the answer would suddenly appear in an elegant scrawl on the wood finish.

          "I'm fine, hatter! You didn't do anything to upset me; I just need a minute," Emma retorted irritably. "Would you please call Belle and tell her I'm running late?"

          "What's wrong? Why is your voice all shaky? Have you been crying?"

          Emma scowled at the door knob when it began rattling under his hand. She wasn't being fair to him and she knew it. She stared down at the offending stick in her hand and the unmistakable double lines, a groan issuing from her throat. She wanted to throw up. She wanted to scream. She wanted to climb through the bathroom window and run. Now she could hear Henry on the other side of the door.

          "Why is Mom locked in the bathroom?"

          "She said she needs a minute," Jefferson huffed, rocking back on his heels and shoving his hands deep into his pockets. He, himself, groaned as he heard the doorbell ring and Grace run to answer it. Oh, he so didn't need this right now.

          "What's going on?" Regina asked, her brows puckered as she joined her son and Jefferson in their stakeout of the bathroom.

          Henry hugged his mother around her waist and shrugged. "Mom's locked herself in the bathroom and won't come out."

          "What did you do this time, Jefferson?" Regina asked, one of her perfectly plucked eyebrows reaching skyward.

          Emma dropped down on the closed lid of the toilet and wrapped her arms around her middle, leaning forward and taking deep calming breaths. It sounded more like she was going to hyperventilate.

          Jefferson looked appalled. "Why is it everything that happens automatically has to be my fault, Regina?"

          "Most things usually are," she quipped icily. Just because she was trying to be a better person for Henry didn't mean she had to be nice to Jefferson Madden. That bridge had been burned long ago when she'd left him stranded in Wonderland with her mother.

          He wanted to bang his head against the door in lieu of knocking. "Rabbit, Regina is here to pick up Henry. Are you going to come out and say goodbye?"

          Sobbing could be heard through the door.

          "Is she ill?" Regina asked, lowering her voice in an aside to Jefferson. The hatter shook his head and shrugged, completely at a loss.

          "Mom," Henry called, his turn to rattle the door knob. "Mom, please open the door." The sobbing grew louder and more anguished.

          Regina's features twisted in panic. "You broke the savior! She faced a dragon without breaking a sweat and gets broken by the Mad Hatter."

          He ignored her and fished his cell phone from his pocket to call Belle as Emma had requested. "Belle, Emma's running a bit behind … no, she's fine, sort of … why do you think something is wrong … no I didn't do anything … she won't tell me. She's locked herself in the bathroom and won't open the door … I don't know …"

          "How long has she been in there?" Belle asked, appearing behind him in the hallway in a puff of blue smoke. "Why didn't you call me sooner?"

          Jefferson gaped at her, Henry grinned, and Regina took a step back, pulling Henry along with her. "Haven't I asked you not to do that?" he asked in exasperation.

          "Emergencies don't count." She shooed Jefferson off down the hall, giving Regina a look which clearly told her to go with him and knocked lightly on the bathroom door. "Em, are you alright? Will you please open the door?"

          "A-Are you a-alone?" came Emma's voice, cracking under the weight of her tears.

          Belle's fingers twisted together in an effort to quell the urge to unlock the door with magic. "Yes, Em, I sent everyone off to the living room. Will you please let me in?" The door knob rattled as the lock turned, and Belle poked her head through the small opening she made. Emma grabbed her arm and pulled her inside, locking the door behind her.

          Belle was taken aback by the condition of her friend. Her hair hung in lank rat tails from not being dried properly after her shower, her face was red and splotchy from crying and her shoulders drooped in despair. She looked nothing like the spunky tough-as-nails sheriff Belle knew. This was Emma at her most vulnerable.

          She wrapped her arms around the much taller woman and rubbed soothing circles on her back as Emma wept. "Oh, sweetheart, what happened? Are you hurt?" she asked hesitantly, although she couldn't imagine Jefferson would hurt Emma. He loved her more than his next breath, and his gentle nature would never allow him to hurt a woman, especially one he cared for as much as his future bride.

          Emma pulled away from Belle and resumed her seat on the closed toilet, unrolling a length of toilet tissue from the roll to blow her nose. "I've ruined everything. I was too happy, too comfortable with my new life. Every time I let my guard down, I do something to screw it up."

          "Emma, I'm sure it can't be as bad as you're making it out to be," Belle assured her, sitting down on the edge of the tub and patting Emma's hand.

          "We never talked about this. What if he doesn't want …"

          Belle closed her eyes and prayed for patience as she waited for her to get to the point. "Maybe if you told me about the problem, we could find a solution," she offered hopefully.

          Emma reached over and plucked the pregnancy test off the counter by the sink, handing it to Belle whose eyes widened to the size of dinner plates when she saw the two blue lines and realization dawned on her. "I'm pregnant. Or at least I am according to that."

          Belle wanted to squeal with glee, but thought better of it. She didn't think Emma, in her distress, would appreciate the gesture. "Oh, Honey, this is no cause to be so upset. This is wonderful."

          Emma pushed her hair back away from her face, and swiped at her tears with her fingertips. "Is it? Jefferson and I have only been together for six months. He just proposed three weeks ago. I don't want to walk down the aisle with my belly preceding me. And what if he doesn't want another kid?" she asked, her own eyes widening at her next thought. "Oh, God, what are my parents going to say?"

          Belle smiled warmly at her friend, and rose to retrieve a washcloth from the towel rack, wetting it with cool water and wringing it out. She pressed it to Emma's flushed face and told her to take a deep breath. "Emma, do you want this baby?"

          "Of course, I do. I love Jefferson, and I'll love any child we make together," she said, putting voice to her feelings she hadn't wanted to admit to herself until that moment. "I just didn't expect this to happen so soon."

          "Sometimes these things happen whether we expect them to or not. I didn't think it would happen at all for me and Rumpel. Right now, you're experiencing all those lovely pregnancy hormones which are flooding your system and making all your common sense fly right out the window."

          "Ya think?" Emma snapped dryly.

          "It doesn't matter what anyone else thinks about this, especially your parents. They will be thrilled to become grandparents again and you know it. What matters right now is how you and Jefferson feel. He's going to be ecstatic, Emma."

          "How could this have happened?" Emma asked, throwing her hands up as she rose to pace the rug. Belle smothered a smile behind her hand. "Well, I know how it happened, but we were always so careful."

          "Always?" Belle asked, quirking a brow.

          A rosy blush tinted Emma's face. "Well, there was that one time, actually our first time together and things were moving way too fast and … and … well it just sort of happened and we didn't …"

          "How many … uh … how … um …" Belle still felt uncomfortable talking about such things no matter how close she and Emma were.

          "How late am I? Two months maybe."

          "You need to see the doctor," Belle said, thinking aloud.

          "Well, that's not happening today. It's Saturday and I'm sure Dr. Bryan would object to having to see me on his weekend off."

          Belle cringed. "Jefferson isn't going to leave it alone until you confess why you're so upset, and you don't want to tell him until you have confirmation from the doctor." She pulled her phone from her purse and dialed Gold.

          "Hi, sweetheart … no, everything is fine … I wouldn't know, we haven't made it there yet … yes, I'm with Emma … Rum, would you stop asking questions please … don't get snarky with me … I need a favor … Do you think you could possibly persuade Dr. Bryan to see us this afternoon …"

          The line went dead as Gold appeared before her, the phone still clutched in his hand, his eyes wide and zeroed in on her belly. "Why do you need to see the doctor? Are you in labor? Are you alright?" It finally registered on him where they were. "And why are we in Jefferson's bathroom?"

          Belle rolled her eyes and moved aside so Gold could see Emma where she was sitting. "It's not for me, darling."

          "Why would Miss Swan need to see Bryan? He's general medicine, but primarily an … oh, I see." He searched the contacts on his phone and dialed. "I'll … uh … see what I can do, love." He stepped out into the hall, clearly uncomfortable to have been dragged into this situation.

          Belle in turn dialed the number to the B&B where the baby shower was going to be held in less than an hour. "Hey, Red, it's Belle … something's come up and Emma and I are going to be a little late … no, I'm fine … could you just hold down the fort until we get there … Thanks, Red."

          Gold knocked on the door to get her attention and Belle opened it a crack. "He can see you in twenty minutes. Do you want me to go with you?"

          "No, we'll be fine. Thank you, Rumpel," she said, sighing in relief she'd be able to help her friend. "Now poof out of here before Jefferson sees you."

          "She hasn't told him?"

          "Go. We'll talk later."

          Gold quirked a brow. "It's not good to keep secrets, my Belle."

          Belle thought back to a month ago when he'd discovered she'd been keeping secrets from him and she winced at the memory. "I know that better than anyone, but this is Emma's decision. It will be better if she knows for certain before she shares this with Jeff."

          Gold gave her a solemn nod and poofed out, leaving her to tend to Emma.

 

*.*.*

 

          Snow passed another present to Belle as she watched her daughter from the corner of her eye. Emma was acting strange and had nearly bitten her head off when she'd asked if something was wrong. Things had been strained between them since the curse had broken, but Snow continued to hope their relationship would get better with time. At least Emma was trying and hadn't pushed her away completely. She'd just never seen her confident, head-strong daughter quite so distracted.

          "You know you can talk to me about anything, Emma. I know something's bothering you," Snow whispered, leaning closer so Emma could hear over the delighted squeals of the women present.

          "I'm fine, Mary Margaret. I just have a lot on my mind," Emma said, sipping distractedly at her cup of fruit punch. Thankfully, Red hadn't spiked the punch bowl out of respect for Belle's pregnancy. If she had, Gold would be hunting werewolf on the next full moon. She didn't want to be there, but it wouldn't look good if she skipped out on her best friend's baby shower, especially since she'd been asked by Gold himself to be their baby's godmother.

          "Are you and Jefferson having problems?"

          "No, nothing like that," Emma retorted irritably. What was it with her mother butting her nose in where it wasn't wanted? She'd taken care of herself this long without her parents and didn't feel comfortable with the endless barrage of questions Snow thought she ought to ask. Great, now she was feeling guilty for thinking badly of her mother. Stupid hormones! No, it wasn't just the hormones. She wondered if she'd ever get over her abandonment issues. She was trying, really, she was; it was just difficult. It had been so much easier before the curse had broken and Mary Margaret had been just her friend.

          Belle reached over from her chair of honor in the middle of the B&B's sitting room and squeezed Emma's hand. "If you need to go, I'm certain Red or Mary Margaret can drive me home," she suggested kindly.

          "I'm not bailing on you, Belle. You're always there for me when I need you and I'm not going to run out on you in the middle of your baby shower. That's my godchild. I mean, how would that look?" Emma asked, nibbling on a cracker. It was about the only thing she could hold down right now with her stomach protesting every smell which assailed her from the small buffet set up for the shower guests. "It's bad enough we were more than an hour late."

          Snow lowered her eyes to her clasped hands where they rested in her lap and tried to keep the pain from showing in her expression. She should be the one Emma confided in and it was wrong of her to feel jealous of the closeness between her daughter and Belle. Belle was her friend, too, and she should be happy Emma had her to talk to. "Why were you late anyway? You're feeling alright, aren't you, Belle?"

          Belle worried her bottom lip between her teeth, a sure sign she was evading. "Emma and I just had a little errand to run this morning."

          Snow let it drop as Red dropped a gift bag at Belle's side. "So, how's Rump coping? Is he making you nuts yet?" she asked, sitting in the chair to Belle's right.

          Belle snickered at Red's nickname for Gold. It was almost as bad as what he called her. But she answered to  _wolf-girl_ , so she must not mind too much. "He's very anxious for the baby to arrive, as am I. I feel like I swallowed a watermelon, I don't walk anymore … I waddle, and I spend more time in the bathroom than any other room in the house."

          "And it can't help that Bryan told you no more sex until after the baby's born," Red chuckled with a suggestive waggle of her brows.

          Belle groaned and dropped her head in her hands to hide her blush. "I am never telling you anything in confidence ever again," Belle hissed in embarrassment.

          "Is there a health issue? I've heard of some women being able to … uh, being able to … you know … up until they go into labor," Snow said, turning beet red.

          "Oh, my God, please tell me you didn't!" Emma gasped in horror.

          Red burst out laughing.

          Belle picked up the gift bag and hid her face in the tissue paper, so Emma couldn't see her trying not to laugh.

          Emma rose to her feet and glared at the three of them. "Belle, I think I'm going home and have a talk with my fiancée. This has just turned into a TMI moment and I just can't deal right now."

          Belle watched her go, hoping her talk with Jefferson went well. Red squealed with delight over the pretty little pink dress complete with frills and ruffles Belle retrieved from the bottom of the gift bag. "Sweet!"

          Now that Emma was gone, Snow wanted to know just what was going on with her daughter. Belle shrugged and sat back heavily against the soft back of the chair. "I'm sorry, Snow. You're going to have to ask Emma."

 

*.*.*

 

          Emma pulled into the long drive and turned the engine off, resting her head against the steering wheel of the little yellow bug. She took a deep breath, trying to calm the rapid tempo of her heart. The test results were wrapped around the home pregnancy test she'd taken that morning and were burning a hole in the pocket of her leather jacket. How was she supposed to find the words to tell Jefferson he was about to become a father for the second time?

          She was sure to owe Gold another favor for coercing Dr. Bryan to come into his office on a Saturday to perform a pregnancy test and a prenatal exam once it was confirmed she was indeed pregnant. Eight weeks pregnant to be exact. The fatigue, the nausea and the lack of appetite had been enough to make her suspect, but she hadn't expected the actual test to be positive. He was going to drill her about her upset from that morning and then more over her abrupt departure with Belle without answering a single question he'd asked. It wasn't fair to him, the way she'd acted, but she wasn't used to dealing with panic.

          Her head snapped up as the car door opened and Jefferson reached in a gentle hand to pull her out. And then she was in his arms and she was fighting back a fresh wave of tears as he hauled her against his chest and ran a comforting hand over her hair. "Emma, are you alright?" he asked, pressing a kiss to her temple.

          "I will be," she assured him, tucking her face against his neck and fisting her hands in the waistcoat he wore over his silk shirt.

          When she showed no sign of releasing her tight grip on him, he scooped her up into his arms and carried her into the house, sitting down on the sofa with her on his lap. He didn't say anything for a long moment, content to just hold her tightly in his arms. It didn't matter that it was killing him as he waited for her to open up to him. He would be patient with her. Instead, he chose a subject which would hopefully put her at ease. "How was the baby shower?"

          She shrugged out of her jacket and tossed it to the end of the sofa, again snuggling deeper into his embrace and resting her head against his shoulder. "It was good, I guess. Besides the four of us and Granny, Zel, Ariel and Jazz came. Red wanted to invite Ashley, but she's more terrified of Belle than she is of Gold and decided not to come. And considering Belle hates her with a flaming passion, I think it was for the best. But she got a lot of cute and needful things for the baby."

          Jefferson kissed her lightly and scooted her out of his lap, moving to her feet to pull off her boots and thick socks, rubbing firmly at her arches. "And did you have a good time?"

          She knew what he was doing, trying to put her at ease so she would feel comfortable about telling him what was bothering her, and she loved him all the more for it. "Aside from having to learn something really disturbing about my mother's pregnancy when she was carrying me … yeah, it was ok."

          The smile curving his lips didn't match the worry evident in his warm grey eyes. "Good. I think I'll go make … I'll go make tea, hmm?"

          "Jefferson, we need to talk," she said, rising from the sofa as he too got to his feet.

          She grabbed his hand and winced at the pain flitting over his features, his thumb rubbing over the diamond gracing the fourth finger of her left hand. "It's all my fault. I pushed too hard, too soon."

          Realization dawned on her and she was quick to reassure him. "What? No! No, you didn't."

          "Then why are you breaking up with me?"

          "Jefferson, I'm not breaking up with you," she shook her head, wrapping her arms around his waist and pulling his head down for a kiss. "I'm marrying you, hatter. I'm not going to change my mind. I love you."

          "Oh, thank the gods," he breathed against her hair, crushing her to him. "I love you, too, Rabbit. I thought … this morning when you were so upset … I thought you were having second thoughts."

          "No," she said, "you're well and truly stuck with me."

          "Then would you please tell me why you were such a mess this morning? Even Regina was concerned about you and that's something I never thought I'd live to see."

          Emma snorted. "Yeah, well, we'll never be best buds, but at least she's trying to act like a human being." She slipped out of his arms and gestured to the sofa. "I have to tell you something and I think it might be best if maybe you sat down."

          He did as she asked, suddenly nervous and unsure of what he should do with his hands. "Would you just please tell me."

          Emma picked up her jacket and dug in the pocket where she'd stashed the tests and placed it in his hand, closing his fingers around the rumpled paper. The little stick fell out onto his lap as he tried to make sense of what he was reading. He glanced wide-eyed at her and then down at the little blue lines on the stick, his hand reaching for it. "You … ah … you're pregnant?"

          "Are you upset?"

          "What?!"

          Emma brushed angrily at the tears which sprang to her eyes. "I'll understand if …"

          Her words trailed off as he dropped to his knees before her and wrapped his arms around her hips, pressing his face into her flat belly. "Oh, Emma, how could you think I would be upset?"

          He pulled at the button on her jeans and eased the zipper down, tugging her jeans down her long legs and helping her step out of them. Lifting the hem of her tank top, he pressed his lips to her bare skin and she could feel the wetness of his tears on her skin. “Hi, baby,” he cooed.

          "I didn't know, Jeff. We'd never even talked about having children together. Grace is still trying to get used to me being her new stepmother. Henry is being tugged back and forth between me and Regina and I didn't know how you would feel about a new baby," she explained, unable to hold back her tears any longer. Only now it was tears of relief that he was just as happy as she was about the life growing inside her.

          He rained kisses over her belly, inching her tank top higher. "Grace and Henry are going to be thrilled to have a new brother or sister."

          She was getting distracted as he whipped the shirt over her head and tossed it over his shoulder. He pressed a kiss in the valley between her breasts as she stood there before him in just her bra and knickers, one hand cupping her breast, the other soothing over the flat plane of her belly.

          "What about our wedding?" she asked, whimpering softly as his lips found the alabaster flesh of her throat over her pulse point.

          "We'll move the date up if you like," he murmured, his arms moving around her to lift her in his arms and make his way to their bedroom. "If you want, we'll go see the justice of the peace tomorrow."

          He kicked the bedroom door closed behind him and bore her to the bed, his lips and hands never leaving her. "What about …" But it wasn't important. Nothing was important right now except the fact that he was touching her, that he loved her and was happy she was carrying his child. For the first time she could remember, she had a bright future full of love and laughter and children to look forward to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So, were you surprised? Did you like it? This has got to be one of my favorite chapters in the whole fic. It was just so very fluffy. We don't get enough fluffiness. Regardless, I really hope ya'll enjoyed it. We can thank Emilie Brown for the madswan baby idea. The Rumbelle baby and Baelfire are next. Hope you all are as excited as I am.


	56. Chapter 56

          "Rum, it's hot in here. Go adjust the thermostat," Belle whined, stuffing another pillow against her aching back so she wouldn't be lying flat in the bed. She was a week overdue and her levels of discomfort varied between outright misery and weepy disdain. It wasn't that it was sweltering in Maine the first week of July, but if you asked her, she'd landed somewhere between the seventh and ninth circles of hell. She was now miserable in every piece of clothing she owned, and her poor husband had taken to buying her new clothes in the hopes she'd find something which would suit her.

          His voice was muffled beneath the two quilts piled high over his body next to her. "The thermostat is on fifty, Belle. I can't make it any colder in here," he grumbled, suppressing a violent shiver as he wished he could snuggle next to her for warmth. He was freezing, she was sweating. He wondered if they would ever reach a happy medium. The electric bill was somewhere in the stratosphere now after two weeks of her hot flashes. Even with two heavy winter quilts covering his side of the bed, he was sure he was developing frostbite on his arse.

          "My back hurts."

          Gold pulled the quilt away from his face and glared at her. "I would be happy to rub your back, Belle, but that would mean I'd have to touch you." Another of her new quirks. She didn't want to be touched. Skin contact set off her hot flashes, touching made her skin hurt, she was tired of not being able to see her feet, tired of not being able to get out of a chair without aid and most importantly of all … not being able to eat  _anything_  without belching little puffs of blue smoke.

          Belle worried her bottom lip with her teeth and batted her lashes playfully at Gold. "Please, Rum." She scooted closer to him and placed a chaste kiss to his lips. "Pretty, pretty please?"

          "I can't."

          "Why not?"

          "I can't feel my fingers," he teased, tossing off the quilt and drawing her back against him to knead her lower back. By now he knew each and every spot which caused her pain, and he was an expert on how to ease it. "You know I could rid you of this ache with a wee bit of …"

          "No magic, Rum. I don't want to use it for every little ache and pain."

          He grumbled unintelligibly and nuzzled his cold nose against her neck. "If you're in pain, you should stay home today. I'm certain Emma, Mary Margaret and the wolf girl can do without you just this once."

          Belle was scheduled to meet her friends for lunch at the diner to go over the final preparations for the wedding. There were only two short weeks left until Jefferson and Emma said, 'I do' and there was no way she was going to miss it … short of going into labor. "I just hope our baby comes before the wedding, so I don't have to buy a new dress."

          His hand left her back to sweep over her belly. "Everything is going to be fine, sweetheart. Dr. Bryan said if you haven't delivered by Monday he was going to induce."

          Belle sacrificed her comfort to maintain contact with her husband. She missed being able to lie comfortably in his arms and the loss of contact was putting a strain on them. She was looking forward to their daughter's arrival so she no longer had to keep him at arm's length just so she could be comfortable in her own skin. "Rum?"

          "Yes, sweetheart?"

          "I'm sorry I've been so cranky lately. You know I love you, right?"

          "Of course, my Belle. That was never in doubt," he assured her as he kissed the shell of her ear.

 

*.*.*

 

          "Okay, I get the chili and cheese. I can even somewhat understand the jalapeno slices … but mayonnaise?" Emma asked, her nose wrinkled in disgust as she stared down at the plate of French fries Belle was picking at.

          Belle smirked. "Surely you had weird cravings when you were pregnant with Henry and now you can't walk by a pickle jar without eating at least two," she said, pointing at the jumbo dill pickle clutched in Emma's hand.

          "Yeah, but pickles aren't weird," Emma protested.

          Mary Margaret made more notes in her wedding journal and grimaced. "They are when you're dipping them in ketchup."

          Emma glared at her mother. "Yeah well, what did you crave when you were pregnant for me?" she asked.

          Mary Margaret didn't hesitate, knowing she would surprise her daughter. "Blackberry dumplings."

          "Eww. You hate blackberries, all those little tiny seeds getting stuck in your teeth for days no matter how much you floss …"

          "Which is why it made it so strange for me to crave them," she smiled wryly.

          Belle pushed her half-eaten order of fries to the side and kneaded her back for what seemed like the umpteenth time that morning as Red made her way from behind the counter and sat down next to Mary Margaret. Belle knew that look only too well. It was the one she wore when she had some spicy bit of news to impart.

          Red wasn't one to disappoint. "There's a stranger in town. Just checked himself into the B&B." She nodded with satisfaction as a hush fell over the table. Emma set her pickle down and twirled her engagement ring in circles with her thumb.

          "No one comes to Storybrooke on purpose," she said, sharing a puzzled look with her friends. "Who is he?"

          "Don't know. Granny checked him in. But he sure is nice to look at," Red chuckled, a wicked grin curving her lips.

          Mary Margaret sipped at her iced tea and grinned at Red. "You think every man who smiles at you is hot."

          "Well, I just haven't been lucky enough to find my true love yet," Red grumbled defensively. "Oooh, look, there he is," she said in a sing song voice under her breath, trying to point him out, but not wanting her actions to be obvious.

          The booth they had chosen had Belle and Emma with their backs to the rear entrance of the diner and had them dying of curiosity as Mary Margaret's brows reached skyward. "For once, I'd have to agree with Red. Very nice," she murmured appreciatively.

          Belle felt the fine hairs on her arms stand up straight and had to rub her hands over them to rid herself of the sense of magic in the air. Her senses were prickling in alarm and it was hard for her to breathe, almost the same feeling she had when Gold was near, and she could feel him through their bond. The only other person she'd ever felt this strange around was Henry, but with him it was more of a prickle than this odd sense of awareness.

          "I am so telling Dad you were scoping out random guys in the diner," Emma said, chuckling at her mother. Mary Margaret had the good sense to blush. Emma couldn't care less that Red had someone new to drool over because none of them could hold a candle to her own fiancé. And then she heard that voice and it felt as though someone had stopped the Earth's rotation only to give it a violent spin to get it restarted.

          "Hello, Emma."

 

*.*.*

 

          Neal dropped his bag at the foot of the bed in the room he'd just rented and retrieved the postcard from the breast pocket of his blazer. Storybrooke's clock tower stared at him from one side. On the other was a single word,  _broken_. The curse which had hidden the town for so many years had finally been lifted and now he had a second chance to find Emma Swan and apologize for everything he'd done to hurt her.

          He never should have listened to August in the first place, never should have let Emma go to jail for a crime he'd committed so she would be forced down a path leading her to her destiny. He should have told Boothe to bugger off and run with the woman he loved to the very depths of his soul. He'd be lucky if he could get her to ever speak to him again.

          He looked down at the postcard in his hand, creased and lined from wear and tucked it back in his jacket. He wasn't going to find her in his rented room, he thought ruefully and headed for the door.

          Taking the stairs two at a time, he smiled warmly at the little brunette behind the counter before leaving the inn. The phone call he'd placed to August hadn't been entirely fruitless. He'd learned Emma was still in town and she had won the position of sheriff. That had come as a bit of a surprise, but hey, who was he to judge? Hopefully, he wouldn't give her a reason to arrest him.

          The diner, next to the B&B, was practically empty when he entered the rear door and took in his surroundings. He figured it would be as good as any place to start his search. The sheriff's station had been virtually empty when he'd stopped in earlier to inquire after Emma's whereabouts save for one lone deputy who didn't know of the sheriff's plans for lunch since she'd just arrived for her shift. But he wasn't going to have to search far.

          She was there, sitting with friends over lunch. He would recognize her lovely profile anywhere as she turned to speak to the woman sitting next to her, would know the exact shade of her hair, the slight tilt of her head as she listened intently to what was said to her and the same tenseness in her shoulders. The woman still hadn't learned to relax.

          Now, all he had to do was find the courage to say hello.

 

*.*.*

 

          The blood drained from Emma's face, leaving her complexion ashy and waxen as she whirled to face that voice from her past. Red took one look at her and quickly got to her feet. "Everybody out, diner's closed. Just saw a huge rat," she squeaked, holding the door open for the patrons who couldn't seem to make a hasty enough exit.

          Mary Margaret and Belle gaped at Ruby and Granny bustled in from the kitchen flaming mad. "Do you know what you just did? Those three are going to spread it all over town that there's a rat in the diner and no one is going to eat here for at least a month. How are we going to pay the rent?" she fumed, swatting her granddaughter with a dish towel.

          Emma stared wide-eyed at Neal, unwilling to believe he was really standing there before her. Belle tugged on her hand. "A little help, please," she said, trying to get Emma to snap out of her daze and help her to her feet.

          "What the hell are you doing here, Neal?" she asked, helping Belle out of the booth, but her eyes were fixed on him. She paid no heed to Belle herding her friends into the kitchen to give the pair some privacy. She also didn't notice the kitchen door was cracked so they could listen and rush to her aid if needed.

          "I came to see you … _needed_  to see you," he explained quickly. "Can we just sit for a minute and maybe talk?"

          Emma could feel the panic rising in her chest _. This couldn't be happening right now. She was two weeks away from marrying Jefferson, she had a baby on the way and she finally had a good strong relationship with Henry. Henry! Oh, Gods, what was she supposed to tell him? She'd been putting off that discussion forever and now she wasn't going to have a choice but to tell him the truth about his father. Why was it every time she got a glimpse of happiness, her past had to come back to bite her in the ass?_ She dropped back down into the booth and folded her arms across her chest. Whether it was in anger or to somehow contain her thundering heart within her bosom, she didn't know.

          "You have five minutes," she rasped out, clearing her throat awkwardly and narrowing her eyes to glare at him.

          Neal fiddled nervously with a napkin which had been left on the table and cringed at her tone. "I know I'm probably the last person you expected or even _wanted_ to see today …"

          "Ya think?" she hissed, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

          "… but if you will let me explain …"

          "What's to explain, Neal?! You're going to finally explain how the man I loved set me up to take the rap for a crime he committed, how I was left to go to jail, how …"

          Her voice was drowned out by a crash in the kitchen and what sounded like Red saying, "Oh, hell no, he didn't!" before silence once again.

          A flash of pain washed over his features and his gaze slid away from her accusing stare. "August said I had to let you go so you could fulfill your purpose for coming to this world. He …"

          "YOU LET ME GO TO JAIL BECAUSE PINOCCHIO  _TOLD_  YOU TO?!" she railed at him, balling her hands into fists on the table to stop herself from beating the life out of him. "Oh, I'm going to have to introduce puppet man to the sharp side of a hatchet. I can't believe you listened to freaking Pinocchio, Neal."

          Neal ran a hand through his short brown hair in frustration. "Emma, he knew things, things no one else in this world knew about me. If he knew who I really was, how could I not believe what he had to say about you?" he asked, his eyes pleading with her to believe him.

          "You're from there? Did you know all along who I was, where I was from? Did you play me from the very beginning?" she asked, suddenly nauseated at the thought he had never really loved her as she'd thought.

          "No," he said defensively. "I had no idea until I met August that you were a princess. He told me it was your destiny to come here and break a curse an evil queen had placed on this town."

          Emma slumped back in her seat and pinched the bridge of her nose. "And you believed him. You threw away what we could have had because of August," she spat in disgust as she got to her feet.

          And her luck just kept getting worse as Henry burst through the door of the diner, pink-cheeked with excitement. "Mom, Grumpy said Mr. Clark told him there was a rat in the diner. Is it true? Did they catch it? Can I see?"

          Emma caught him by his shoulders to slow him down and shook her head. "There was no rat. It was just a prank Red was pulling," she explained. She turned her gaze back to Neal who had risen from the booth, a startled expression on his face. "Your five minutes are up. I have a life now, Neal. In two weeks, I'm marrying the man I love, I'm expecting a baby after the new year and I have a good relationship with my son. I'm finally happy and I'm not going to let you mess that up. I don't need you or want you in my life, so you can go right back to wherever you came from and leave me the hell alone."

          She ushered Henry to the door, who was uncharacteristically quiet, before his voice stopped her. "Is he mine, Emma?" Neal asked, frozen in place as his gaze locked with Henry's.

          "You don't get to ask that question." She swung the door wide and led her son out into the afternoon sunshine, already fielding Henry's questions.

          Belle stepped out of the kitchen, Mary Margaret and Red at her back, calling out to him before he could plunge headlong out the door to follow Emma and demand answers. "Let her go, Baelfire."

          Neal paused with his hand on the door, icy tendrils of dread creeping up his spine and turned to gaze at the petite woman behind the counter; the only one who was looking at him with a mixture of joy and compassion on her lovely face. "How do you know my name?"

          Belle couldn't have stopped the smile from blossoming on her lips if she had tried. "That's easy. I'm your stepmother."

 

*.*.*

 

          Belle approached her stepson and lifted a finger to close his mouth. "You're going to attract flies, darling," she said, giggling softly.

          Neal shook his head to clear it and eyed her warily. "Did you just say you're my stepmother? That's not possible."

          "Why is it not?" she asked simply, unable to look away from his familiar sable eyes. She couldn't believe she was actually standing there gazing upon Rumpelstiltskin's son, his precious boy, his Bae, and she found herself fighting back a wealth of tears which threatened her composure.

          "It's just not possible." He stared at her in bemusement when she merely quirked a brow at him, challenging him to dispute her. "You married the Dark One?" he asked, twirling a finger through the air so reminiscent of her husband she had to bite back a laugh.

          "Would you care to walk me home? I'd be more than happy to share my tale with you," she offered sweetly.

          Neal took a step back, instantly wary of her gentle patience. Was she bewitched, bespelled or otherwise enchanted to actually seem happy to be married to his father? The myriad questions racing through his brain made him want to accept her offer, but the thought of having to face his papa after so many centuries of bitterness held him back. "He's here in Storybrooke?" he asked, wanting his suspicions confirmed.

          "Of course. It was his curse, after all, which brought us here."

          "Sorry. As much as I'd love to hear how you were tricked into marrying my father, I don't want to get anywhere near him," he said coldly, lowering his gaze, but not before he saw the smile slip from her face.

          Belle's eyes took on the color of ice and she had to bite her lip rather hard to stay her scolding tongue. "How about you and I make a deal, dearie."

          Neal's head jerked up in surprise at the condescending endearment. "Taught you all his tricks, did he?"

          Belle shrugged noncommittally. "A fair few. But this deal will give you something you desperately want," she promised.

          He crossed his arms over his chest in a defensive gesture and shuffled his feet. "Lady, you couldn't possibly know what I want. You don't know me."

          "I know more than you think, Bae." He snorted, but she brushed his rudeness aside and continued. "I know your heart's desire is to sit down with Emma Swan and have a conversation with her without her running away from you." She reveled in the blush rising to stain his cheeks. "I can make that happen for you. All you have to do is walk me home. If you don't want to speak to your father after I've had my say …"

          "No one can make Emma do anything she doesn't want to do."

          Belle smiled fondly at her stepson. "Emma owes my Rumpel a favor. I can call it in, as well, at any time. I can make her talk to you, Bae."

          The temptation to take her up on her offer made his heart flutter in his chest as he looked down on the tiny woman bravely staring him down with hope in her eyes. "And all I have to do is walk you home? Should you even be walking long distances in your condition?" he asked, realization dawning on him, his next words said more as a thought to himself. "Gods, you're carrying my … my …"

          "Your baby sister, yes," she finished for him, beaming happily. "And the walk will do me good," she shrugged, brushing his worries aside. "Do we have a deal?"

          Apparently, his father had been busy in his absence. "Deal," he answered readily, offering his arm and leading her out of the diner and onto the sidewalk, indicating she should show him the way. They walked in silence for several moments before his curiosity got the better of him. "So … how did you meet my papa?"

          Belle's eyes lit up at the thought of telling her tale and she couldn't hold back the chuckle which bubbled from her lips at the memory. "I was Princess Belle of Avonlea. We had a bit of an ogre problem and had no choice but to call on Rumpelstiltskin for aid. I was his price. He claimed he wanted a caretaker for his rather large estate. At the time, he didn't mention his estate was a bloody castle. The place was huge. Damn near worked me to death my first month there." She smirked at him. "Close your mouth, darling. You don't want to catch any flies." He quickly snapped his mouth closed, but continued to stare at her in awe.

          "So … ah … what kind of spell did he cast on you to make you marry him?" he asked snidely, returning her smirk.

          Belle let out a sigh and stared at him dolefully. "You don't know your papa at all, do you, Bae? One of the few laws of magic is that it can't be used to make someone fall in love with you. You could make a love potion to give the illusion of love, but those never turn out well. I saw the man behind the beast and it terrified him. The real reason he wanted me was for companionship. He was lonely, lonelier than anyone I'd ever met before. He never meant me harm and he certainly never expected me to fall in love with him."

          "You really love him?" he asked, still trying to wrap his head around that bit of news. "You don't know what he was like when he first obtained his curse. I can't see any woman loving him like that."

          Belle sent up a little prayer for patience. "That was centuries ago. When I met your father, he was a lonely man filled with regret. I would watch him spin for hours, lost to his thoughts. When I asked him why he spent so much time at the wheel, he said it was so he could forget. To forget what he'd lost, to forget the pain of losing you. And as for being the Dark One … he put on an act of bravado, instilling fear in those desperate enough to summon him. Would you like to know why?"

          "Because he's a sadistic bastard."

          "Darling, please don't make me hex you. Rum would not be pleased," she said dryly.

          Neal raised a brow and stepped away from her warily. "You have magic?"

          "Of course, but we'll get to that. Now, where was I? Oh, yes. Every deal he made, he made it hoping it would lead to some way to find you. He believed no one would ever love him because he was a monster and it took a bit of convincing on my part to make him see he was wrong, that I loved him to the very depths of my soul. He devoted his life to finding you, Bae."

          Neal huffed with indignation. "He wouldn't have had to do all that if he'd come with me through the portal, but he was too much of a coward to keep his promise."

          Belle finally lost the firm control on her temper as they strolled up the driveway to the pink mansion. "Let me tell you something, dear. Your father is one of the bravest men I know. He blindly took on a curse he knew nothing about to save you from being conscripted into a war. The ogres don't fight as men do, Baelfire. They are intent on one thing, carnage. They want to tear and rip and sever you from everything you hold dear … if you even survive. Rum was branded a coward in his own village because he chose to return to you instead of dying for a ruler unworthy of his loyalty. Have you any idea the pain he endured to accomplish that feat? Do you not realize the courage it must have taken to injure himself? He loves you more than anything in the world, Bae. He was ridiculed and cast out, shunned. He felt as though he were weak and worthy of no one. He was afraid to lose the power he'd gained, to feel helpless once more, to disappoint _you_ , Bae. If you can't believe anything I've told you, at least give him the chance to tell you what's in his heart." Tears flowed unchecked down her ashen face and she brushed them away angrily, despising herself for showing any sign of weakness.

          "So, he spent centuries trying to find me. Did he give up his magic? No. Did he try to break his curse? No. And then he condemned everyone in our realm to this land. How can you defend him?"

          Belle kneaded the small of her back and once again ignored the pain which had been plaguing her all morning in favor of glaring at one of the most stubborn men she'd ever met. He was more like his father than he would ever care to admit. "Shortly before I married Rum, he bound me to him … a blood bond. I understand him because I can  _feel_  what's in his heart. I wish you could see him as I do. Deep down, Bae, he's still human and humans make mistakes. Are you so much better than him you can't try to forgive?"

          He pointed a long finger at her and she ground her teeth together in vexation. "You're deluding yourself, lady. Rumpelstiltskin may say he loves me, but he doesn't care about anything more than his dagger, more than his power. He …"

          "His dagger belongs to me. I command the Dark One," she said softly, taking him by surprise.

          "You lie. He would never  _willingly_  submit to  _anyone_. I don't care how much he might love you, he would never make himself your slave," he hissed, his lip curling back in a sneer, refusing to believe her.

          "I didn't want the responsibility at all, but he didn't give me a choice. He wanted me to be his mistress because he knew I would keep him from doing something to harm another. He couldn't live with the Dark One lording its power over him any longer. Now the only evil he does is overcharging tenants for rent," she chuckled. "He's a good man, Bae, and you are one of those fortunate enough to see it if you will just give him a chance. When you love someone, you don't just love the part of them that's good, you love _every_ part … good, bad and the gray area in between."

          She held out her hand to him, the breath hitching in her chest as she waited to see if he would accept her offer. Several long moments passed before he sighed and placed his hand in hers, letting her lead him onto the porch. "This doesn't mean I forgive him."

          "No, my darling, but it's a start."

 

*.*.*

 

          Belle showed Neal to the living room and set off in search of her husband. He'd been spending less time in the shop, preferring to spend the afternoons with her as her time to deliver drew near. So, he would close up the shop and come home after lunch to conduct his business either from his study or the library. She found him in the library with the phone pressed to his ear and an evil smirk on his face. She could only wonder which poor unfortunate soul had brought out the imp in him this time. They, however, would have to wait.

          Gold held up a finger to ask for another minute. "Yes, Mrs. O'Dell, I understand your dilemma … yes, yes … but Madam, I cannot conduct my business and turn a profit if I grant an extension to everyone who asks. If I grant you one … I just don't …" His words trailed off distractedly as he watched Belle practically grind her teeth into nubs in her impatience.

 _What is it?_  he asked through the bond.

_Get off the phone, Rum!_

_I'm in the middle of something, dearest. Can't this wait?_

          Gold was trying to pay attention to Belle and concentrate on the squawking cell phone in his hand at the same time, clearly torn as to what he wanted and what he needed to do. Belle was at the end of her patience as the pain in her back was reaching epic proportions and took the phone from him.

          "Hello, Mrs. O'Dell, I'm terribly sorry to have to drag Rumpelstiltskin away from you, dear. Yes, I understand Mr. O'Dell was out of work last week. I also know he blew his last paycheck at the strip club. You have one week to pay my husband what you owe him," Belle growled into the phone.

          Gold's lips pressed into a thin line as he listened to his usually sweet wife handle the woman on the phone. He didn't know whether he wanted to laugh or ravish her over the desk in his study. Considering she was heavily pregnant, he'd have to settle with laughing.

          "One week, Mrs. O'Dell. And if you'd like me to waive the late fee, I'm certain you could send one of your granddaughters to me next week for a bit of light housekeeping and help with meals. She can work it off," Belle said, solving the problem which had been plaguing her for some time now. She'd need help after the baby arrived and this was the perfect solution. "Yes, dear … yes, you're welcome. Have a good day."

          Gold slipped his arms around her and pulled her in for a kiss. "Have I told you today how beautiful you are?" he asked, trailing his lips along her jaw to her ear. "And brilliant," another kiss along her neck. "And breathtaking."

          "No, I believe you were too busy grumping about the thermostat," she murmured throatily, carding her hands through his hair and holding him close.

          "I apologize for being remiss," he whispered against her shoulder, nipping lightly with his teeth.

          Belle pushed gently against his chest. "Darling, I have the most wonderful surprise for you."

          "Belle, sweetheart, you don't have to …"

          "You're really going to want this surprise. I promise," she winked at him, her eyes alight with mischief. "Wait here," she teased, inching towards the door and disappearing behind it. He shook his head, a rare smile curving his lips, but waited patiently for her return.

          He glanced down at her with a puzzled frown as she returned and stood by his side, her eyes trained on the door. "Belle, what …" he began, but she merely smiled and nodded at the door.

 

*.*.*

 

          Neal edged forward behind his new stepmother - and yes, he was still reeling from that revelation - and paused with his hand on the door. She claimed his father was on the other side of the door, waiting for him in that room, and he could feel his stomach roll over in trepidation. This was the man who had cared for him every day of his life when his mother had abandoned them, had gone without nourishment so his boy could eat, had spun some nights until his fingers bled so he could earn enough coin to see them through the harsh winters. Was that the man waiting for him on the other side of the door? Or was it the imp, the demon, who'd taken his father's soul and destroyed his trust in him?

          "What did you buy, sweetheart, that it will walk in on its own? Did you get a dog? Bae had a sheepdog once. I wouldn't mind owning a dog," Gold said, ignoring his wife's shushing noises. Neal's eyes slammed shut as that familiar lilting voice met his ears, reminding him of bedtime stories and quips and even scoldings … all delivered in that beloved voice. It was nothing like the high-pitched cackle of the Dark One. He couldn't hesitate any longer, having to see for himself if it was really his father. The father he had longed for on cold nights when he'd been freezing and alone. He took another step forward and pushed the door wider.

 

*.*.*

 

          Gold gazed expectantly at the door, unsure of just what little prank his Belle had up her sleeve. He certainly wasn't prepared for the man who hesitantly entered the library and stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans, his eyes downcast on the floor. The posture was so reminiscent of his son …

          His eyes swung to Belle, who refused to meet his gaze, her glassy blue orbs resting intently on the man before them. "Rumpel, this is Neal," she said softly, using the name he'd chosen to use in this realm. At the sound of his name, Neal's head snapped up and finally met Gold's penetrating stare.

          Rumpelstiltskin didn't even feel her breath at his ear, encouraging him to be strong, to be brave. He was numb with shock as he stared into sable eyes, so like his own, eyes which could only belong to his Baelfire.

          "Baelfire …" was as far as Gold got before his throat closed up and the stinging pressure of tears started at the back of his eyes. He could see his boy in the man before him, his dream, his goal, his fondest wish finally a reality, standing mere feet from him in flesh and blood and bone. He wasn't an apparition or specter, nor a hallucination brought out in his dreams to torment him; he was real.

          Neal could feel tears welling in his own eyes as he gazed at the man standing so closely to the petite brunette who had brought them together, one arm tightly around her waist as if hanging on for dear life and the other hand in a white-knuckled grip on a gold-handled cane. He could see no trace of the Dark One in his angular features, his eyes a soft sable brown instead of darkest amber, his skin flushed with a healthy glow instead of a green-gold hue. He was human again, but the faint smell of ozone clinging to the pair, the smell which could only be defined as magic confirmed that looks could be deceiving. But he wanted to believe so badly he'd changed, that he was his father once more.

          "Yeah, it's me … Papa," he said, unable to keep his voice from breaking on the last word. He ignored the tears leaking from the corners of his eyes, because they weren't important now. He couldn't worry about a show of weakness right then when his father was limping across the room, closing the distance between them and embracing him. He felt as though he were fourteen again as the memories of their life in another realm flooded his mind, poor times, hard times, but mostly _happy_ times, and he couldn't stop his arms from lifting to wrap around his father.

          Gold cradled Neal's face in his hands and studied his features before hugging him again. "My boy, my Bae," he repeated over and over. "I'm so sorry … so sorry … I never should have let you go, Bae. I've been looking for you for so long … just for the chance to tell you I was sorry … that I  _am_  sorry, and I love you."

          Belle swiped the box of tissues from the coffee table and made her way to the door. "I'm sorry," she cried. "I'll leave you two alone to talk and go make t-tea," she said, her voice clouded with emotion and trembling under the weight of it. She waved him off when he would have stopped her from leaving, feeling they needed a little privacy without her weeping over them and making things even more awkward.

          Neal straightened his shoulders and cleared his throat, wiping his tears away on the back of his sleeve. "I'm still angry with you."

          "I know, son, but I will happily listen to you shout at me just so I can hear your voice," he said sincerely, gesturing for his son to have a seat so they could talk.

          Neal nodded at the door and decided to change the subject. If he decided to stay in Storybrooke for a while, he and his father would have plenty of time to work through their problems. He was willing to try. "Your Belle, she's … ah … she's something, isn't she?"

          The corners of Gold's eyes crinkled as he smiled. "She is the most amazing woman I've ever known, the best deal I've ever made."

          "Yeah, she told me a bit about your story on the walk home. Seems you've corrupted her though."

          Gold's brows disappeared into his hairline. "How so?"

          "She made a deal with me to get me to walk her home," he admitted a little sheepishly. "I have to say it was a bit surprising to find out I had a stepmother and a new sister on the way. You seem to have been quite busy."

          "Yes, well … she can be quite persistent when she wants something, my Belle. I don't deserve her after everything I've done, but she refuses to give up on me and I just can't live without her. But tell me, what brought you to Storybrooke? How did you even  _find_ Storybrooke?"

          "August sent me a postcard letting me know the curse was broken."

          "How do you know Mr. Boothe?" Gold asked, his eyes narrowing at the thought of the puppet who'd tried to pass himself off as Baelfire. "He's not the most trustworthy fellow around here."

          "Yeah, I found that out the hard way and made a lot of mistakes following his advice. But I came here to fix it, fix things with Emma," Neal told him.

          Gold blinked, unable to find his voice to ask the thousand or so questions perched on the tip of his tongue. "Emma Swan?"

          Neal was prepared to tell him the entire story of his love affair with Emma and perhaps even ask for advice, but the sound of china breaking distracted him, followed by a startled cry. Gold was on his feet in seconds, moving faster than a man with a limp should be able to.

          "Rumpelstiltskin!" Belle cried from the direction of the kitchen.

          "I'm here, love," he said, staring down at the broken tea cup and spilled water on the tiled floor. "It's just a cup. We'll replace it." It's not like it was his chipped cup which could never be replaced. He didn't even like the pattern on this set.

          But his Belle looked off. She was pale, and lines of pain etched her mouth, no doubt from grinding her teeth so hard. "Rum, I'm not really concerned about the stupid china."

          Neal was starting to turn a little green and rushed behind her to wrap an arm around her waist to lend his support. His father was still a bit clueless as to what was going on and someone had to keep her from collapsing to the floor. "Papa, I think you need to get the car."

          "Why?"

          "Rum, my water just broke," Belle hissed around a fresh wave of pain. "So, unless you want to deliver this baby yourself, we need to go to the hospital."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I cried again when I was editing this chapter *sob* I really sincerely thought I would be able to finish with this chapter, but once again I was wrong … as usual. So, I've got one more chapter and an epilogue coming your way before the end of this tale. Really want to hear what you think. Thank you all so much for your support during the writing process and keeping me going. Stay tuned for baby Gold in the next chapter. xoxoxo


	57. Chapter 57

          "Papa, I really don't think you driving would be the best idea," Neal said as he scooped Belle up into his arms and started for the stairs. His foot hadn't even touched the bottom step before Gold's hand on his arm was pulling him back.

          "Son, where are you going?"

          "I'm assuming your bedroom is upstairs?" he asked, his voice calm in the hopes it would have an effect on his panicked father. Gold could only nod a bit frantically. "I figured Belle would want to change into something dry before we left."

          "Oh, of course."

          "Rum, darling, now is not the time to panic," Belle called over Neal's shoulder. "Grab my bag from the hall closet and put it in the car. I …" her voice trailed off as she pointed out the master bedroom and disappeared with Neal through the door.

          The expectant father hadn't moved from his previous position at the foot of the stairs as though he were frozen with horror, when she was carried back down wearing a simple pair of knit pants and a light cotton blouse. She was more interested in comfort than style at the moment. Over the years, she'd seen her husband with many emotions displayed by a myriad of expressions, but she could never remember seeing such terror etched on his face.

          "You need to snap out of it, Papa." Neal set Belle down and went to fetch her overnight bag which had been packed and ready for the better part of a month.

          Belle cupped Gold's face in her hands, drawing his gaze to hers. "I need you, Rum," she cried, her eyes pleading with him to be brave and take care of her. "I'm afraid and … and I need you now."

          Which was the perfect thing to say at that moment because nothing was more important to him than seeing her safely through this. His head cleared and once again, he was the no nonsense pawn broker, his mind focused on the task ahead. In moments, he had Belle bundled in the back seat of the car next to her bag, Neal behind the wheel and himself at his wife's side timing her next contraction.

          He held her close to his side and whispered words of encouragement into her ear while texting Jefferson and Emma about their trip to the hospital. Jefferson answered that he was already there and nearly done with his shift. He would make certain Dr. Bryan was paged and a room would be waiting for Belle when they arrived. Belle calmly – though Rumpelstiltskin didn't know how she could be calm at a time like this – gave Baelfire instructions on the route to the hospital.

          Neal stopped the car at the entrance to the emergency room and rushed to get a wheelchair for Belle, knowing his father would have little care if the car was towed or not. He could only assume the man who met them inside and began wheeling her into an elevator was someone Gold trusted. That was a surprise, considering he knew Rumpelstiltskin had never been a trusting man. The orderly, nurse, whatever he was, leaned over to kiss Belle's cheek and place a soothing hand on her belly.

          "It's about time that little one decided to make an appearance," he said, fondness and what sounded like a great deal of love, coloring his tone. Neal watched him with surprise, wondering over his familiarity. The man turned to Gold and smirked. "How're you holding up, Rum? Should I make you a special pot of tea to make this ordeal a little more bearable for you?"

          Belle bristled at that and swatted his arm. "You will not be serving tea. I doubt Rum wants to sleep through the birth of his child. He missed Bae's and he's …" her words trailed off as another searing pain hit her lower back and she grabbed the nearest hand available which just so happened to be that of her stepson. Neal winced and yowled right along with her.

          "Belle, it's not nice to grab innocent random strangers in elevators," Jefferson quipped, sending Neal an apologetic smile.

          In the chaos of getting Belle to the hospital, Gold hadn't had the chance to fill Jefferson in on the good news of his son's return. "He's not a stranger, hatter. This is my son, Baelfire."

          Jefferson gaped, his gaze swinging between the two men, disbelief written clearly on his features. "You … he … how?" he managed to ask, extending his hand to shake Neal's free one.

          "How many minutes, Rum!?" Belle asked, striving to find a comfortable position in the wheelchair as she was wheeled off the elevator and positioned next to the nurse's station on the second floor of the hospital.

          "Eleven minutes apart, love. We still have plenty of time. Just br –“

          "I swear by the gods, Rumpelstiltskin, if you tell me to breathe, I will make certain you aren't able to produce any more offspring. Are we clear?" she asked, fisting his tie to drag him down to her eye level, her teeth clenched as she huffed around the pain.

          "Yes, dearest," he answered, turning to glare at Jefferson that he hadn't already wheeled her to a room. "What's taking so long?"

          Jefferson was trying to coordinate with the nurse behind the desk who handed him a stack of forms on a clipboard for Gold to fill out. He handed it in turn to Gold who glared at the woman. "Sorry, Rumpel, standard procedure. Why don't you see about the paperwork and I'll get Belle to her room?"

          "Fine," he grumbled and watched his son follow behind Belle and Jefferson, rubbing the numb fingers of his left hand. Halfway through the first page, constantly sneaking glances down the hall as nurses traipsed in and out of the room, he snarled at the severe nurse who had started this fruitless endeavor. "Bryan couldn't have had me fill these out last week when we came for Belle's prenatal visit?"

          "I apologize for the inconvenience, Mr. Gold, but it is hospital policy. There are forms which have to be signed the day of admittance, consent forms for the epidural, one for a cesarean if needed, living will …"

          He leaned over the desk, his face mere inches from hers as he growled. "There will be no need for a will, dearie."

          Her eyes widened, and she slumped back into her chair. "It's just a precaution, Mr. Gold. I'm sure everything will be fine, and it won't even be needed," she stammered, hurrying to reassure him.

          Whale got off the elevator and moved down the hall while Gold was distracted filling out one form after another, his usual lovely and precise handwriting barely legible. The clipboard went flying back at the nurse as he heard Belle's anguished cries.

          "Bae, find your papa. I am not having my child delivered by Dr. Frankenstein," she wailed, coming out of her en-suite bathroom and putting the bed between herself and Whale, Neal at her back.

          "Dr. Bryan has been delayed, Mrs. Gold. I just need to do a preliminary exam to see how far you've progressed," Whale explained, his hands out in front of him in a gesture meant to show her he meant no harm.

          Jefferson ignored the melee and helped her onto the bed despite her protests, asking her to be still so he could start an I.V. Neal, seeing that Jefferson had everything under control, slipped out of the room to find his father. And though Belle seemed to be following the instructions Jefferson gave her, her eyes never left the shifty doctor. She had reason to be wary of him. He had been in charge of her care when she'd been Regina's prisoner in the psych ward, and she wanted him nowhere near her or her child.

          "I want my husband. Get my husband, Jeff," she begged her friend, ignoring the sting of the needle he inserted into her left arm. She pinned Whale with her narrowed stare as he inched toward the end of the bed. "You … get out! Get out or I'll rain down so much hell on your head, a week in Rumpelstiltskin's dungeon will look like a day at the beach! Out!"

          Whale visibly paled as the gold encircling her wrists began to glow and blue sparks shone at her fingertips. Gold entered the room, his eyes finding Belle and noting her distress before searching out the cause. "Whale! Out … you heard my wife!"

          "I think the entire floor heard your wife," Jefferson deadpanned. "Probably several floors."

          "Knock it off, Jeff," Belle hissed.

          Whale threw up his hands in surrender and made a hasty retreat, almost running into Neal as he came back into the room. Gold sat down next to Belle on the bed and wrapped his arms around her, crooning softly and stroking her hair, trying to restore calm to her frazzled nerves. This ordeal was going to be stressful enough without adding creepy doctors to the mix.

          She’d been fine allowing Whale to take care of Gold when he’d been admitted after his fight with Regina over Henry’s custody, but her defenses were down, and old fears were now creeping in to plague her. He understood perfectly.

          Jefferson strapped two monitors to Belle's abdomen and Gold retreated to the small silver stool Neal fetched to set next to the bed. "What's that?"

          "The blue one is to monitor her contractions," Jefferson answered, pointing to the screen to her left. "And the pink one monitors the baby's heart rate." He turned up the volume on the second screen and they could hear the sound of the little one's heartbeat fill the suddenly silent room. He hooked a bag of saline solution to Belle's I.V. and stood back. "Now, I suggest you try to get as comfortable as possible and wait it out, my girl."

          "Three more minutes, love," Gold said, consulting his watch, still timing her contractions. She took a deep breath and twined the fingers of her right hand with his left before settling back against the pillows and twisting the hem of her hospital gown nervously between her fingers.

          "I'm sorry I kind of lost it with Whale," she apologized, grinning sheepishly at Gold.

          "It's fine, sweetheart. Perfectly understandable you wouldn't want him anywhere near you."

          Emma burst through the door and made her way to Belle's bedside, giving her friend a comforting hug. "I'm so sorry I ran out on you earlier. How long have you been having contractions? Are you alright? Can I do anything for you?" she asked in a rush.

          "I didn't even know I was having contractions. The only thing paining me was my back and then I was making tea and my water broke."

          "Back labor. I had that when I went into labor with Henry," she explained, accepting a hug from Jefferson. She hadn't even noticed the other occupant in the room where Neal stood silently watching her by the door. "I was in labor for hours before I ever had a contraction in the front."

          She turned as the door opened and Dr. Bryan entered the room, freezing, her eyes widening when they landed on Neal. "What's wrong, rabbit?" Jefferson asked as he felt her stiffen in his arms.

          "What are  _you_  doing here?" Emma hissed, her hands tightening around Jefferson as she tried to rein in her temper.

          Belle cringed at the heat in Emma's voice, Gold quirked a brow and smirked, the imp in him excited over the drama which was about to unfold, and Jefferson frowned, truly confused. Neal simply shrugged. "I drove my stepmother to the hospital when she went into labor. Didn't think it was prudent to let Papa drive."

          "Wait. What?!  _Rumpelstiltskin_  is your father!?" she shrieked, her gaze swinging between Gold and the infuriating man from her past.

          Belle leaned over and whispered furiously in her husband's ear, quickly filling him in on what he'd missed. Gold cleared his throat. "Miss Swan, Belle informs me that Bae wants to have a chat with you, dear. Perhaps outside in the waiting room?"

          "I am  _not_  having a damn chat or anything else with him!"

          "A favor owed, dearie."

          "Crap! This is what you're going to use your favor for? Seriously?" she asked incredulously.

          Jefferson had had just about enough. "What the hell is going on? How do you know Rum’s son?"

          "Um …" Emma threw up her hands in surrender. "Fine, come on," she said, pulling Jefferson out the door behind her and expecting Neal to follow after them.

          Dr. Bryan glanced over Belle's chart and ignored the family drama going on in the room, setting it in the holder at the end of the bed when he was satisfied with what he'd read. "Alright, Mrs. Gold. I'm going to do a quick examination to see how much you're dilated and …"

          He was cut off by a muffled wail as she sat up slightly and gripped Gold's hand. He wasn't expecting the whimper which emitted from the stoic pawn broker as he doubled over with her. When the pain passed, Gold dropped his head atop the bed panting. "What … wh-what the bloody hell was that, Belle!?"

          "What do you mean?" she asked, closing her eyes and trying to breathe normally.

          "I-I felt … felt …"

          "The pain?" she asked, her brows knitting together in a puzzled frown. Gold nodded weakly, meeting her gaze. "You felt the pain through the bond?"

          "I believe so. I can speak to you, touch you and feel your emotions through it, why shouldn't I be able to share your pain?" he asked, straightening on the stool as the doctor stared at them in astonishment. “I think I was in shock earlier when you went into labor which prevented me from feeling it before now.”

          "Well, this has to be a first," the doctor mumbled as he continued with the exam. "It's going to be a while, Mrs. Gold. You're at three centimeters, so I think you should just try to relax and let nature take its course. I'll check back with you periodically to monitor your progress."

          Belle groaned and chewed thoughtfully on her lower lip as the doctor left them alone, shutting the door behind him. "Rumpel, you have to sever the link … like you did before when you were angry with me. I can't have you suffering along with me and passing out on the floor."

          "But, Belle …"

          "Look, I know how much you want to be a part of the whole process. I know you want to share this with me because you missed being there when Baelfire was born, but I will not sit here and let you feel what I'm experiencing. No man is equipped to deal with what we women have to go through. Knowing you, you'll never want to touch me again," Belle huffed, staring dolefully at the clock on the wall to see how much time they had before her next contraction.

          "I don't want you to suffer alone," he protested.

          "And you are to be commended for the sentiment, my love. Do I have to make it a command, Rumpelstiltskin?"

          He narrowed his eyes and ground his teeth, instantly wanting to please her when she used that tone and asserted herself as his mistress.  He would only be able to disobey her for so long after she made the command and the pain of his disobedience would be so much worse than what he would feel through the blood bond. "As my mistress wishes," he growled low in his throat, immediately severing their link.

          "Thank you, my husband," she said softly, pulling him onto the bed with her and nuzzling her face into the crook of his neck. "Even though you can't share the pain, you can sit up here with me and hold me. I'm rather frightened."

          "I promise not to let anything bad happen, my darling," he vowed, holding her close to his side.

          "And you never break your word," she sighed, taking comfort in his closeness, reveling in the small respite she had before the pains began again. She'd been on the verge of dozing comfortably with her head on his shoulder when Emma's voice erupted in the hall outside Belle's room.

          "You don't have a say, Neal. You left me before you even knew about him. You still wouldn't know about him if you hadn't shown up here!"

          "He's my son, too, Emma. I have a right to see him, to get to know him. I'm not going to abandon him now," Neal growled in a voice only slightly lower than her banshee wail.

          "Uh-oh," Belle groaned, her eyes trained on the door before swinging to her husband.

          Gold looked torn between needing to stay and comfort his wife and barging out into the hall, so he wouldn't miss anything which transpired between his son and Emma Swan.

          "I was in Phoenix for eleven months, Neal. You didn't come to visit me once … not _once_. If you had wanted to have anything to do with me, you would've come. It was your choice to cut us out of your life completely. All because you decided to listen to fucking Pinocchio instead of coming to me!"

          Belle took pity on Gold and suggested, "Why don't you go crack the door open a bit, so you won't miss anything."

          "Henry should have the chance to get to know his father, Emma," Neal countered. "I understand that you've decided to move on. It was a chance I took when I came to find you, but there has to be some way I can fit into my son's life."

          Jefferson stood, leaning against the wall between them to keep them from coming to blows, wishing he could bang his head against the plaster.  "Regina's is going to have kittens when she finds out," he mumbled under his breath.

          Emma groaned. "Oh, God, I forgot all about Regina."

          "Who's Regina?" Neal asked, confused.

          "His adoptive mother; the same woman I have a very tentative custody agreement with," she explained, leaving out the fact that said woman was also the evil queen who had cursed the town, figuring Neal wouldn't appreciate it.

          Gold gaped at Belle and whispered, "I have a grandson; Henry is my  _grandson_."

          "Yes, love, it's been an amazing day. You've been reunited with your son and realized a life-long quest, become a grandfather and are becoming a father for the second time," Belle told him, grinning widely. "This should top your list of the ten best moments of your existence."

          "I would have to agree."

 

*.*.*

 

          Jefferson hung up the phone and slipped it back into the pocket of his scrubs as he watched Emma pace the confined space of the waiting room. He'd called Regina as Emma had requested and asked her to bring Henry and Grace to the hospital for a heart-to-heart, not an easy feat to accomplish without telling Regina any details, but she'd agreed regardless.

          "She'll be here soon, rabbit," he said quietly, not wanting to add to the stress his beloved was experiencing by letting his own ragged emotions show on his face. He dropped into a chair and decided to wait her out.

          Neal had returned to Belle's room to wait with his father, especially since Emma had shut down and ended their discussion. She'd fulfilled her obligation to have a talk with him about their son, refusing to talk about their failed relationship at all. It was over, in the past and long dead before it’d had a chance to begin and she wasn't going to open up the ragged wounds to bedevil her.

          She was happy with Jefferson. He'd completely claimed her heart and helped her to find love again and she was not going to throw that away just because her first love had barged back into her life. Her steps faltered in mid-pace and she glanced at her watch.

          "Belle's contractions are getting closer together," she mumbled distractedly as she met Jefferson's worried gaze.

          "It would seem so," he agreed, raising a brow as the lights flickered. "Rum should have bound her powers before she went into labor as out of whack as they've become."

          "I dunno, she seems to be handling it pretty well." A few flickering lights and the linoleum changing colors every hour or so being the side effects of her loss of control over her magic were minor compared to what she was capable of. She'd rather enjoyed the little flash of blue light that had knocked Neal on his arse more than twice. "It will be better once they give her the epidural," she said, remembering her own experience with labor and delivery.

          Jefferson nodded and turned his gaze to the window, his eyes drawn to the parking lot. "Regina's here."

          Emma winced and moved to sit at his side, taking his hand in hers and holding it there on her lap. "You're worried, I can tell, hatter."

          Jefferson huffed out a resigned sigh. "It's not every day your ex comes to town to try to steal you away from me. And what are the chances that your ex also happens to be the son of my dearest friend and the very reason we were all cursed to this land to begin with."

          She scooted onto his lap and cradled his face in her hands, placing a gentle kiss to his pouting lips. "I love  _you_ , Jeff. I'm marrying  _you._ I don't love Neal Cassidy anymore. Him being here doesn't change anything between you and me."

          "How can you say that? He's the father of your son, Emma. You don't feel anything for him anymore? Honestly?"

           Emma sighed and laid her head against his shoulder. "What I feel for Neal is anger. Anger that he left me, that he didn't love me enough to follow through with our plans, that he let August convince him leaving me was the right thing to do. There is no room in our life for Neal. It's up to Henry whether or not he wants Neal in his life. I can't deny him his father if he wants to know him, but that has nothing to do with you and me."

          Jefferson's arms wrapped tightly about her waist and pulled her closer, closing his eyes and giving a little prayer of thanks she still wanted to be with him. "You still want to be with me?" he asked, needing to hear the words.

          "I do. In two short weeks, you'll be stuck with me for good," she said, smiling for the first time in hours.

          "Alright, what's the emergency?" Regina demanded, storming into the waiting room and finding a seat.

          Emma rose from Jefferson's lap and faced her, unsure of how to begin. "Well, we've … uh … we've got a problem. Not a huge problem, but still a … well, maybe a snag …"

          "Would you just spit it out already?" Regina snarled impatiently.

          "My dad is in town," Henry blurted out, his eyes alight with excitement.

          "What?!" Regina exclaimed, gaping at her son in alarm and gasping for much-needed air, her accusing stare falling on Emma.

          "Neal came to town looking for me hoping now that I've fulfilled my purpose as savior, I might want to give him another chance. Then he found out about Henry and wants to meet him," she tried to explain quickly.

          Before Regina could interject, Henry glanced down the hallway towards Belle's room, startled by an anguished cry. "Where is he? I want to see him."

          Regina laid a halting hand on his shoulder. "I don't know, Henry. Maybe we should discuss this first," she said, trying to be gentle for her son's sake instead of tearing into the padded seat she sat upon with her bare hands in a blind panic.

          "It should be his decision, Regina," Emma said softly, pulling the queen off to the side to talk quietly out of Henry's range of hearing. "Everything is just calming down with this custody arrangement. He's feeling secure and happy for the first time in forever. If he wants to meet Neal, he should be allowed the chance, don't you think? His _needs_ have to come first despite how we feel about it."

          "I am not believing this is happening," Regina hissed. "But you're right. It should be Henry's decision if he wants to meet him. Is he staying in town for long or is this just a temporary decision on his part?"

          "I don't know," Emma shrugged. "We'll work this out, Regina. We won't let this disrupt Henry's life."  _Or ours if I can help it_ , she added silently. She laid her hand on Henry's shoulder and smiled. "Come on, kid, let's go meet your dad."

          Regina dropped into a chair and rubbed a hand over her eyes. "This can't come as good news to you either," she said to Jefferson in commiseration, "to have Emma's ex in town."

          "Oh, it gets better, your majesty," he scoffed ruefully.

          "Please," she sneered. "What could possibly be worse than Henry's biological father breezing into town to throw everyone into a tizzy?"

          Jefferson laughed, a hint of the madness which had plagued him in Wonderland evident in his voice. "Maybe the fact that Henry's father just so happens to be Rumpelstiltskin's long, lost son? Oh, wait … that means the Dark One is Henry's grandfather."

          Regina's eyes widened to the size of dinner plates and her ruby nails dug into her palms. "Please tell me you're making a really distasteful jest," she pleaded. She felt like she'd fallen into a portal and had yet to land.

          "Welcome to the family, dear. We put the fun in dysfunctional."

          Regina cringed and reached into her purse for her antacids.

 

*.*.*

 

          Hours later, after Henry's chat with Neal and a sojourn to the cafeteria and several trips to the snack machine, Regina took Henry and Grace back to her home for some much-needed rest. Emma had promised to meet with her the following day to discuss a plan to allow for Neal's presence in their son's life. Emma and Neal took turns sitting with Belle, Emma refusing to be in Belle's room while Neal was there, too. She was still angry, and rightly so and it was going to take more than their son to rebuild that bridge into civility. Jefferson was snoring softly away on a sofa in the waiting room and still Belle labored to bring her child into the world.

          "I'm tired," she complained as Gold gathered her long hair in his hands and pinned it atop her head.

          "I know, sweetheart. Try to rest between contractions," he said, trying to be helpful.

          Belle glared at him. "You try to rest when it feels like something is trying to claw its way out of you, Rumpel," she snarled acidly. "Why is it so hot in here?"

          "The thermostat is on fifty, dearest. The doctor said he needed a winter parka last time he came in to check on you."

          Her contractions were only four minutes apart now. "Why won't she come out, Rum? Something's wrong and she's bloody well stuck in there!"

          He laid a cool cloth on her brow and urged her to lie back against the pillow. "Everything's going to be fine, my Belle," he said wearily, feeling as though the stress were causing him to feel every one of his three hundred and fifty-two years.

          She grabbed the front of his dress shirt in her fist and yanked him closer, her grip surprisingly strong. "No. It. Is. Not! Something is wrong!"

          He was thankful he'd discarded his tie after the last time she'd tried to choke him with it. "The doctor said …"

          "I don't give a rat's ass what that bloody simpleton says!" She shrieked, causing Neal to jerk away from the wall he was leaning upon and rush forward, blinking away the dryness from his tired eyes. Belle took one look at her husband's dismayed features and burst into tears.

          "Can't they give her something for the pain, Papa?" Neal asked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

          Gold nodded jerkily and wrestled his collar away from Belle. "They just gave her something the last time the nurse came in. She’s burning through it as fast as they give it to her."

          "Well, isn't there anything you can do?" he asked, wiggling the fingers of his right hand. "You know …"

          Gold stared at his son, shock written clearly on his face, never having expected Bae of all people to suggest such a thing. "I … She won't let me."

          "No magic!" she growled at her stepson.

          "No magic, love, I promise," Gold assured her gently, smoothing several tendrils of her tangled hair behind her ear and away from her sweat-soaked face. She was adamant he didn't use magic. Whatever price to be paid for the magic wasn't worth relieving her pain, she'd declared, and he refused to argue with her in her present state. "Whatever you want."

          Dr. Bryan came in then and once again checked her progress and Belle's eyes shot icy daggers at him. "It's about bloody time you showed up, you quack … lovely new word I picked up in this realm, isn't it, Rum … get down there and find out why my daughter is stuck!"

          Bryan choked back a laugh, happy to report, "Not much longer now, Mrs. Gold. You're at ten centimeters."

          "And just what does that mean exactly?" Gold asked, wanting clarification.

          Bryan smiled confidently at the expectant parents. "It means we're going to take Mrs. Gold down to delivery and say hello to your little one."

          Belle grabbed her husband's hand with both of hers and clasped them to her chest as another pain ripped through her. "Where the hell do you think you're going, Rumpel? You  _are not_  leaving me to do this alone." Her fingers crackled with magic, ready to fire a hex at any one of the nurses who invaded the room and tried to tear him away from her side.

          One of the nurses, a petite redhead, thrust a pair of scrubs at Neal and fled the room. Neal, in turn, laughed and passed them across the expanse of the bed into his father's hands. "I think these are for you, Papa. I'm going to wait with the others." He kissed his stepmother on the cheek, wished them luck and left the room.

          Gold changed out of his suit and into the scrubs and followed Belle as they wheeled her down the hall to the sterile delivery room, taking a seat beside her once more and clasping her hand in his. The room was a flurry of activity as they set her feet into stirrups and raised the back of the bed higher to position her.

          "Rumpel, I'm scared. What if …"

          "Nothing is going to happen, my Belle."

          "Don't leave me, ok?" she pleaded, biting down hard on her lower lip as she tried to breathe through the pain and panic of another contraction and she squeezed his hand to ground herself.

          "Alright, Mrs. Gold, on the next contraction we need you to push," Bryan said from the vicinity of her feet.

          Gold thought his fingers were being ripped from his hand as she bore down and was thankful he had his magic to repair any damage she did to the digits. He tried to keep his own panic pushed as far back in his mind as it would go, refusing to let her fears become his own. "You're so brave."

          "No, I'm not. I can't do this," she panted, breathing heavily. "I can't, Rumpel. I've changed my mind. I want lots of drugs … and magic. Break out the Necronomicon and do your worst."

          "Almost there, Mrs. Gold. We'll get you a lovely morphine cocktail as soon as you're done, dear," Bryan promised, trying to reassure her. "The baby's crowning, another big push."

          "I can't."

          "You can, sweetheart. You can do this. Think of all you've already done," Gold said, wrapping his arm around her back as the next contraction hit and she bore down.

          "What part of  _I can't_  did you miss, Rumpelstiltskin? The  _I_  or the  _can't_ , you ass!"

          Gold kissed her temple when the doctor confirmed the head was through and another push would free her tiny shoulders, which didn't feel so tiny to Belle. "I love you, my Belle," he crooned, holding her tight when she slumped against him in exhaustion. "Almost there, my brave girl."

          Belle collapsed against the bed and closed her eyes as she felt her daughter finally slip free from her body, fighting valiantly to catch her breath. Elation erupted in her breast as her child's lusty wail filled the room, but she didn't have the strength to open her eyes. Only Gold's soft lips on her cheek and the gentle touch of his fingertips smoothing her hair away from her brow kept her grounded in consciousness.

          "Didn't someone promise me a cocktail?" she asked tiredly.

          Gold laughed as he watched the nurse insert a needle into her I.V. to deliver much-needed pain medication. "You did beautifully, my darling."

          Finally, she cracked her eyes open and offered him a weak smile as a nurse brought their baby girl over and laid her on Belle's chest. "Look what we did. She looks just like you," he whispered reverently, unmindful of the tears which trekked down his face.

          "She has your nose," Belle murmured, nuzzling the patch of soft chestnut hair on her daughter's head.

          "Thank you, my Belle." He kissed her softly and then pressed his lips to the baby's soft hair. "Have you decided what we should name her?"

          "Bridget. Her name is Bridget for strength, because so long ago I promised our love would be your strength. I do so love it when I'm right, you know," she teased.

          "And what of her middle name?" he asked with a chuckle, pleased with the name she'd chosen.

          "Edana."

          "What meaning does it have, if I might ask?"

          "Little fire," she said, capturing his gaze with hers. "Because I have a feeling that any daughter of the infamous Rumpelstiltskin is going to be a little spitfire."

          "Bridget Edana Gold. I like the sound of that," he beamed, holding his family close to his heart. "I like that very much."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I am sorry if I wasn't accurate or medically correct, but it's been quite a while since I went through labor and delivery and had nothing but personal experience to guide me. So, I hope everyone is happy with the outcome. Thanks so much for reading!


	58. Epilogue

          Two months, two glorious months had passed since the birth of their beloved Bridget, their lives all the richer for her presence in their lives. Gold glanced at the digital clock on the nightstand, the red glowing numbers reading three forty-five in the morning. His little darling would be waking soon for her four o'clock feeding, her internal clock so like her father's it was uncanny. It was the one feeding Belle struggled with the most, and one he had happily delegated to himself, so he could bond with his daughter and let his wife get some much-needed rest.

          He yawned and pressed a kiss to Belle's bare shoulder as he disentangled himself from her limbs and the silken sheets which adorned their bed, going in search of his robe. Quietly as possible, so as not to disturb her, he grabbed his cane and left the room, padding downstairs on his bare feet to fetch a bottle for Bridget.

          Storybrooke had been quiet as of late, he mused, lost in thought. Jefferson and Emma had gotten married in a quiet ceremony, two weeks after Bridget had come into their little world. Belle and Red had served as Emma's attendants and Gold had stood up for Jefferson as his best man. Henry had been chosen as ring bearer and Grace, their flower girl. It had been a lovely affair, almost as beautiful as his own wedding to Belle so many years before.

          Neal had come to terms with Emma's decision and had opted to go to show Henry they could be one big happy family even though he couldn't be with the boy’s mother. He'd held his baby sister in his arms throughout the ceremony while her parents served as attendants to their dear friends, later handing her off to Belle who was eager to have her daughter back in her arms.

          It had taken awhile to convince Regina to share Henry with someone besides Emma. It really galled her to have to split her time with her son with others. But they'd come to an amiable arrangement to suit everyone. As long as Henry was happy. Regina and Emma alternated weeks and Neal was allowed to have him on the weekends. Gold and Belle were enjoying having Neal stay with them when he came in from New York on the weekends. He was trying to spend as much time in Storybrooke as possible, but Gold could tell it was getting old and his son was growing dissatisfied with having to split his time between his family and trying to maintain his life in the city. He knew it wouldn't be long before Neal would be looking for a permanent residence in Storybrooke.

          The wards rippled around the house as he stepped gingerly into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. He paused with his hand on a bottle, waiting to see if it was an intruder or someone welcome. The sound of a key in the lock of the front door made him relax, realizing it must be his son, the only other person besides Belle and Jefferson who had a key to the house. The bottle warmed in his hand … magic really did come in handy there, as Neal followed the sound of his father's movements to the kitchen.

          "Papa, what are you doing up at this hour?" Neal asked, setting his bag down in the doorway and moving to the refrigerator to retrieve a pitcher of orange juice.

          Gold held up the bottle in his hand and smiled. "Bridget will be up soon. How was your trip, son?"

          "I quit my job and closed up my apartment," he said, peeking at his father over the rim of his juice glass.

          Gold raised a brow in surprise. "Did you, now? Does this mean you'll be staying permanently?" he asked, hope blossoming in his chest. It would mean more to him than he could say to have both of his children under the same roof.

          "That won't be a problem, will it? I mean, I don't want Belle to feel like I'm intruding."

          "Belle loves you, Bae, just as though you were her own. She'll be thrilled to have you here," he said sincerely.

          "It won't be for long. I'm sure I'll be able to find a place in town. My papa owns a good deal of rental property, so I don't think I'll have a problem finding my own place," he joked, setting his glass in the sink and rummaging in the cookie jar which was filled to bursting with Belle's homemade baked goods.

          Gold opened his mouth to reply and was cut off by a wail from the nursery above. He cast Neal an apologetic smile. "I need to see to your sister before she wakes Belle," he said, moving towards the kitchen door, pausing only to say, "I'm happy you're home, son."

          "Kiss my sister for me. Goodnight, Papa."

          In the time it had taken him to spend a few moments with his son, Bridget had worked herself up into a fine fit, her anguished wails reverberating through the upstairs hallway as he made his way to the nursery. They calmed somewhat when his lilting voice reached her ears. "Hush, my lass, Papa's here," he crooned, tucking her bottle away in the pocket of his robe and leaning over the cradle to lift her into his arms. "It's alright, love, Papa's got you."

          He placed her gently on the changing table and went about their early morning routine, changing her with all the care he remembered from when Baelfire had been an infant and making sure she was dry and powdered and content, her cries fading into a sweet burble. "What's wrong with my wee girl this morning, hmm? Did your brother intrude on our time together? He sends his love, my little dearie …"

          Belle smiled as her husband's voice reached her through the baby monitor sitting on the nightstand. She didn't mind giving up this last feeding to Rumpelstiltskin and letting him bond with their daughter. He was as wonderful a father as he was a husband and once again, she offered up a prayer of thanks for the amazing man who held her heart. She could follow his movements in the nursery by sound alone as she listened through the monitor, sounds which usually lulled her back to sleep, but his voice was different this morning. She couldn't remember ever hearing such a soft tone from him and she pushed the last remnants of sleep aside to pad down the hall to the nursery to listen without the aid of the monitor, leaning against the open doorway in silence.

          Gold was sitting in the glider rocker, Bridget held securely in his arms as she fed from her bottle, her tiny hand tangled in her father's hair. Like mother, like daughter, Belle thought, stifling a giggle. She wasn't surprised her fascination with his hair had been passed down to her daughter. But it was his words which captured her attention. "It's nice to let your mama sleep. We can have time to ourselves and let her rest. Do you worry over Mama, too?"

          Neal laid a gentle hand to her shoulder and Belle whirled her head around, putting her finger to her lips to warn him to silence. They stood there together in the doorway and listened. "Mama is so much more special than you know, my sweet girl," he began. Bridget cooed as she finished her bottle and Gold lifted her to rest on his shoulder, gently patting her back. "Let Papa tell you a story … There was once a very powerful sorcerer. Everyone in the realm was terrified of him because frankly, he wasn't very nice. He was obsessed with one goal … to find his lost son. He felt he didn't have time to have others in his life, that they would detract from his mission. But he was so very lonely, my Bridget.

          "Then one day he was summoned to a kingdom in the Marchlands to help defeat a great threat to their people. Ogres are nasty creatures," he expounded, cradling her once more in his arms and watching her sable eyes study his face as though she understood him far more than he believed her capable. "So, the sorcerer agreed to help them. But as you'll learn, all magic comes with a price and the sorcerer demanded the princess as payment in exchange for his aid. He wanted to whisk her away to his Dark Castle and have her serve him as his caretaker.

          “The king refused, and the sorcerer was resigned to leave them to their war to die without his assistance. But the princess was quite brave and perhaps a little headstrong. What am I saying, she was quite a bit headstrong." Belle had to bite her lip to keep a giggle from bursting free from her throat.

          "She claimed it was her fate and she would happily go with him if it would save her kingdom. He wasn't, however, prepared for such a woman. He believed all royals to be spoiled, willful and petty creatures. But do you know what the princess was, my lass? She was not only extraordinary in appearance, but her heart was beautiful as well. The princess saw through the sorcerer's beastly ways and claimed him as her friend. She looked beyond his outward appearance … because he was really something, love, with green-gold skin and nails like claws … and she found his heart.

          "The princess brought light and love and laughter to the Dark Castle, but it frightened the sorcerer. He was a coward at heart, had been for many centuries and was afraid to let her love him, afraid one day she would regret being with him and change her mind. So, what did he do?" Gold chuckled, nuzzling his daughter's soft cheek. "He brought her back to her kingdom and granted her freedom. But of course, our brave princess wasn't at all happy the sorcerer had taken her home without asking her first what it was that  _she_  wanted. And with the aid of an old friend, she escaped her former home and journeyed back to the sorcerer's castle to convince him of her love for him.

          "To this day, my wee Bridget, the dark sorcerer still professes his undying love for her. She did more than fall in love with him, my lass, she  _healed_  him. She healed his soul with her love and helped him to find the happiness he never thought he'd find." Gold stopped rocking as he looked down at his sleeping child nestled in his arms. "Tomorrow I promise to tell you all about your Uncle Jefferson," he whispered, pressing a kiss to her hair and rising from the rocker to return her to her cradle.

          "And they lived happily ever after," Belle murmured from the shadowed doorway where she stood next to her grinning stepson.

          Gold smirked sheepishly, feeling the heat rising in his face. "Um …"

          "That was really nice, Papa," was all Neal said before disappearing down the hallway to find his own bed.

          Belle slipped her arms around his waist and nuzzled her face against his neck, wishing to hide the tears his story had wrought. "You think I healed you, Rum?"

          "Shh, love, don't cry," he soothed, brushing away her tears with the pad of his thumb.

          "You tell our story so beautifully."

          "As she gets older and can stay awake longer, I'll add other details until she knows all of our tale," he said, holding her close to his side as they returned to their own bedroom. Belle curled up against his side as they climbed back into their bed to strive for a bit more sleep before beginning their day. "Belle, do you really think we'll have our happy ending? I've never known a villain to deserve one."

          "I don't want a happy ending, Rum. I want a happy beginning and that's what we have every morning I wake in your arms. This isn't a fairytale and you aren't a villain." She leaned up on her elbow and cupped his cheek in her hand, molding her lips to his. "You are a husband and a father, my best friend and a good man. We've fought so hard for our happiness and I'll never give it up; I'll never give  _you_ up."

          "You won't get bored with such a normal mundane life? Even after a few centuries?" he teased, rolling her beneath him.

          Belle could feel the heat unfurling in her belly his touch always stirred within her as she arched into his palm. "Oh, my darling Rumpel, life with you and our children will never be boring."

          "I love you, my Belle," he whispered against the shell of her ear.

          "I love you more."

 

 

THE END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I know it was short, but this is it. My beast of a tale has finally come to an end. I don't know how to express the deep gratitude I have for you, my readers, who have been with me from the very beginning and have kept me going with your words of encouragement. This was the first fic I ever published on this site and without you it would probably still be stuck in my head driving me crazy instead of out in print for you to enjoy. Thank you so very much for all of your support.


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